


Unforgivable

by sleeponrooftops



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-11-21
Updated: 2010-11-21
Packaged: 2017-10-31 08:34:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 15
Words: 30,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/342057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleeponrooftops/pseuds/sleeponrooftops
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>lust [luhst]: n. 1. intense sexual desire or appetite; 2. uncontrolled or illicit sexual desire or appetite; lecherousness; 3. a passionate or overmastering desire or craving.</p><p>He was never supposed to lust after <i>her</i>. It was forbidden, unforgivable. Only problem was, he didn't <i>lust</i> so much as <i>love</i> her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Beg

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Draco is neutral, Hermione is forgiving, and Ginny understands.

_They happened by accident.  They happened in a moment of treachery and fright that changed their lives forever._

“Your thoughts are not your own.”

 

Draco looked up, eyebrows pulling together as his mother opened one of his drawers, yanking clothes out and tossing them onto the floor.

 

“You have to leave.  Even I can hear them.  Go far; somewhere he won’t look.  Go to _her_.”

 

“Mother,” he began, standing, “What are you talking about?  What’s wrong?”

 

“Draco, you _must leave_ ,” she said, shaking her head and closing the top drawer, “ _Tonight_.”

 

“Why?”

 

“Go to her, the one in your dreams.  He won’t look there.  If she turns you away, go to Andromeda.  She’ll understand.”

 

“Mother,” he shouted, going to her and turning forcefully away from the dresser, “What is going on?”

 

“Your father knows.  Of the girl, Draco, he knows.”

 

“What girl?”

 

“The Mudblood,” she hissed, teeth clenched together, “He knows.  And he told our Lord.  Apparate.  Quickly.  We have to pack.”

 

He questioned her no longer, but instead found a small backpack, charmed it, and began throwing all of his necessities inside.

 

“Everything.  As if you were going to school.  Miniaturize them.  We have to hurry, Draco.”

 

“Will I see you again?”

 

“When this is all over, but not before then.  He will hunt you until the day he dies.  Pack as though you were leaving for school and not coming back.”

 

“You think we’ll lose?”

 

“Why do you think I’ve kept in such good terms with Andromeda and the likes?  Your father doesn’t know, and he won’t ever.  I’ll write, but from a different address and name.  When you return letters, never say names.  Remain secret, always.  Keep safe, my love.”

 

“Mother,” he whispered, frowning, “Must I?”

 

“It is your death otherwise.  Go, Draco.  I love you.”

 

She pulled him close, kissed his temple, and backed away.

 

“Go to her house.  _Beg_ , if you must.  Give her this,” she paused to hand him a letter, “I’ve had it written for a month.  I’ve known.  Write me as soon as you’ve settled.  Address it to Andromeda’s house.   I’ll be visiting her often.  Quickly.  Your father’s coming.”

 

“I love you,” he whispered, lifting a hand as he gripped his wand, “Don’t let him hurt you.”

 

And he disappeared.

 

\--

 

Of all the sights, _this_ was not one she ever expected to see.

 

“ _Please_ ,” he begged, arms wrapped around his head, “Don’t.”

 

She kept her wand steadily pointed at him, her foot bent over his wand on the floor.

 

“Why the bloody hell are you here?” she demanded, eyes narrowed in a glare.

 

“I know, I _know_ , trust me, this looks really bad,” he started, his fingers extending upward, “But I promise I come here on neutral terms.”

 

“ _Clearly_ ,” she spat, “Why else would you surrender your wand?  _What_ do you want, Malfoy?” she continued ruthlessly, venom dripping in her words.

 

“Just,” he began, holding up a hand, “I have nothing on me, I promise.”  He reached into his jacket, pulling out the letter his mother had given him, “Here.”

 

Hermione snatched it from him, flicked her wand at it, and then back at him.  It opened before her, and her eyes scanned the beautiful handwriting.

 

_Keep him safe.  His life is in your hands.  Keep my baby safe, please.  I’m sorry._

“Who wrote this?” she snapped, turning her eyes back to him.

 

“My mother.  Narcissa.”

 

“Get up,” she said after a moment’s deliberation, “You can’t have your wand.”

 

“I don’t expect you to let me,” he mumbled, slowly unfolding his arms and straightening.

 

He was much taller than she remembered, and his normally pale face looked desolate and sickening.

 

“Talk,” she said, bending and taking his wand in her hands.  She locked it away in her trunk, setting a charm on the trunk.

 

He took in a long breath before beginning, “You,” he paused, licking his lips, “Don’t hex me, please.  I find myself interested in you.  And my father found out.  He told… Voldemort,” he said with a shudder, “I was going to die.”

 

“So you came here?”

 

“My mother knew.  She said that you would understand.  I agreed with her.  Because you’re beautiful.”

 

The confession rocked her, but she didn’t let it show, “ _Lust_ ,” she laughed instead.

 

“Inside and out, you are one of the most beautiful people I know.”

 

She turned away after a few moments of silence, slipped into her bed, and set her back to him.

 

“You can sleep on the floor.  We’ll talk in the morning.”

 

He accepted this, setting down his bag and opening it.

 

\--

 

It took her two hours of explaining and asking before her parents agreed.  It was the end of June, and July was _hot_ on its heels.  By the time August crept along, they didn’t hate each other.  He kept up his cold demeanor, but he let her see his friendliness and she, likewise, kept her wall, but let him find certain forgiving steps in their budding friendship.  As mid-August hit them in a wave of heat, their Head letters arrived, and Hermione wrote the boys to celebrate.  She refused to let Draco read the letters, knowing what hateful words would plague them.  To Ginny, however, she confessed _everything_.

 

“My parents are taking us into London today so we can go to Diagon Alley,” she said on the seventeenth, leaning against the bathroom doorway as he brushed his teeth slowly.

 

“We’re going together?”

 

“It’s not the end of the world,” she said, rolling her eyes playfully.

 

He smiled, and his icy blue eyes warmed slightly.

 

“I’ll be done in a few minutes.  I just need to finish getting ready,” he promised, washing the spit down the drain, “Okay?”

 

“Of course.  I’ll see you downstairs.”

 

She turned and left, leaving him to sigh.  They’d never be anything more than this, and even this was something he’d never dared dream of.  But his heart still tugged toward her, a strange feeling that he’d developed their fourth year when he watched her dote hopelessly on Harry.  He knew she had no feelings for him, though she was drawn in a very maternal way, and that had always bothered him until he began to understand her this summer.  Now, he wanted nothing more than to hold her and love her, a chance she’d never give him.

 

Walking through the familiar cobblestone alleys with Hermione beside him was an odd and wondrous experience.  He loved her curiosity and excitement, and he relished in how she would grab his wrist and point in want at a window.

 

“It’s beautiful,” she crooned over a new book that had come out just a week ago, “I’ve been waiting for it forever.”

 

“So get it,” he murmured, arching an eyebrow.

 

“I can’t.  It would be too frivolous.  But oh,” she sighed longingly, touching its spine.

 

Before long, they left, and he was flooded with facts and happy judgments of the book as they continued from store to store, gathering all the necessities.  She hated when he splurged, and so he only bought one of the many things that caught his eye.

 

“Can we get lunch?’ she asked, which surprised him.

 

They’d gone out a few times, but they were in familiar territory now, a place where anyone could know them.  It was easy in the alleys and shops as they could simply slip away from one another, but, to lunch, they would have to avoid such methods.

 

“I’m starved, and I know of a good place.”

 

She led him away, her fingers curled around the end of his sleeve, and they traveled through a maze of turns.  When they finally reached their destination, Draco was far hungrier than when they’d started off.  It was a quaint place, and out of the way, which he approved of instantly.

 

“The food is magnificent,” she commented, smiling as a waitress approached them.

 

They put in an order for drinks as she placed menus before them.  After deciding, they drifted off into light conversation, topics that were broken within minutes.

 

“Don’t get angry,” Hermione suddenly whispered, and Draco felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up as someone walked closely behind him.

 

He didn’t watch as a chair was pulled up to the table and a pretty redhead sat delicately.

 

“I know,” were the first words she spoke, and he sighed heavily, full of relief, “And it’s okay.  She told me in June when you first got there.”

 

“Thank you,” he breathed, turning to face Ginny Weasley, “Thank you so much.”

 

“Not at all.  I’m not certain I can be very… _forgiving_ of you,” she chose her words carefully, “But I won’t hate you like my brother does.”

 

“I ask nothing more,” he confirmed, nodding once as their waitress stopped before them.

 

The girls ordered flawlessly, and he was quick to keep up with them.  Their conversation floated on easily, and Draco was quick to berate himself for ever bullying the Weasley’s.  As they finished, Hermione and Ginny walked ahead of him, and they paused outside the door, chatting quietly to one another.

 

“Do they suspect anything?” Hermione asked in a whisper, touching Ginny’s arm.

 

“They only suspect because you’ve been gone so long.  They appreciate the letters, but they find it strange that you didn’t come to the Burrow this summer.”

 

“I told them my parents wanted me to spend as much time at home before I left for the wizarding world for good.  They said that was understandable.  Well, at least, Ron did.  Harry just laughed and said he couldn’t compare.”

 

“As usual.  They do understand.  They just miss you.  I have to leave, though.  I told them I’d be back before one, and I’m already fifteen minutes late.  You know how mum is.”

 

“Of course.  Take care.  I’ll see you in a couple weeks.”

 

The two girls hugged, and Ginny waved to Draco before hurrying off.

 

“Everything alright?” he wondered aloud, stepping beside her.

 

“Yea, of course.  The boys are just used to us all being together in August, so it’s been weird for them, but it’s fine.”

 

“You could go there, you know.  I don’t have to stay at your house.”

 

“Where else are you to go, Draco?” she sighed, starting off.

 

He followed her, keeping his eyes trained to the ground.

 

“There are places.  I don’t want to ruin your summer.”

 

“It’s _fine_ , Draco.”

 

He didn’t persist, but merely sighed and made the decision himself.  They finished their shopping, met with Hermione’s parents at three, and headed home.  As the night came to a close, and the two new friends parted, Draco begrudgingly left to his room, staring around at his now empty room.  He shouldered his small backpack, charmed to fit all his things, and he picked up the small brown parcel that he’d wrapped and attached a letter to.  He quietly closed his door, left the parcel outside Hermione’s room, and he was no more.

 

\--

 

The rest of August happened in a blur.  Draco found a room with Andromeda, where he swore his allegiance as neutral.  The mark on his arm meant nothing to him, except for the burn when Voldemort called for his Death Eaters.  He refused to fight against him, but he made it known to the Tonks and Lupin family that he would not fight for him.  He made sure to write Hermione regularly, though she only responded twice, each in anger.  He understood why, but he knew her small accounts of the things she did with Harry and Ron made her happy.

 

The first shock of their friendship truly hit him when he arrived at Platform 9 ¾, however.  He waited patiently by himself, off to the side and away from the bustling crowd.  It was only when a wisp of red hair and black-painted nails touched him that he came alive.  He instinctively reached for his wand, but the girl’s was already at his throat.

 

“You left her.”

 

“Ginny,” he confirmed, squirming in her grip and turning to face her, “ _What_ are you doing?”

 

“She showed up at the Burrow in tears, and wouldn’t tell anyone why.  I only just figured it out a few days ago when I walked in on her throwing things around her room.  Your letter was on the floor.  What is going on?  What don’t I know?”

 

He took in a long breath, uncertain of how much to tell her.

 

“Draco,” she hissed through clenched teeth, nails digging into his skin through his cloak, “ _Tell me_.”

 

“I fancy her,” he let out in a rush, and he prepared himself for the explosion.

 

“Oh,” she mouthed, letting him go, “Does she know?”

 

“ _Technically_ ,” he began slowly, “But I only told her when I showed up in her room.  Never after that.  Why?”

 

“Because I’m pretty sure she feels the same.  Did anything happen over the summer?”

 

“Other than us becoming friends, no,” he admitted, still stuck on her first sentence, “Does she really?”

 

“She _cried_ over you, Draco.  Of course she does.  She refuses to go near you, though.  She’s been staring at you for the past five minutes, fidgeting.  I doubt she’ll say anything less than formal to you.  Where did you go?”

 

“Nymphadora Tonks’ mother, Andromeda, is good friends with my mother.”

 

“Small world,” Ginny murmured, “Do you want me to tell her anything?  Just in case?”

 

“No.  I’ll talk to her myself.  Thank you.”

 

Ginny nodded, straightening.

 

“Well, if it’s any consolation, I like you.  And I like how you are with her.  I think you’d be good for her.  I hope things work out.”

 

“As do I.”

 

Ginny smiled slightly, but it slipped away when she looked over his shoulder.

 

“I have to go.  Mum’s looking for me.  Try to be happy, Draco.  You look good with a smile.”

 

He just nodded and watched her depart.


	2. Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Blaise is the best of best friends, explanations are large, and eyes are vulnerable.

The train ride was uneventful until Draco finally opened the right compartment door.

 

“Malfoy!” Blaise Zabini shouted, jumping from his seat and skipping around people’s legs to confront him, “ _Where_ have you been all summer?  I kept owling your house, but I never got any response, except for the one time your mum wrote back and told me to stop bothering.  I thought you’d died!”

 

“I’m fine,” Draco promised, rolling his eyes, “Can I talk to you?  Privately?”

 

“Of course.  Guys, I’ll be back.”

 

He didn’t wait for a response, but instead shut the door behind him, motioning for Draco to lead the way.  He took them back to the Heads compartment, which Hermione had skillfully avoided, except to say a quick hello and let him know she’d take the first rounds.

 

“I spent the summer at Hermione’s house,” he said quietly as he charmed the door to lock and silence.

 

“Hermione _Granger_?” Blaise asked in shock, sitting, “Like, the Mudblood?”

 

“Yes, the Mudblood,” he spat, glaring at his friend.

 

“Are we treating this as a good or bad thing?”

 

“Both,” he confirmed, sitting and putting his face in his hands, “As always.”

 

“How did you end up there?”

 

“My father.  He knew, he figured it out.”

 

“That you like her,” Blaise confirmed, nodding, “And so your mother found out that he knew and forced you to leave.”

 

“She wanted me to go to Hermione’s or Andromeda’s.  I was at both.  Spent June, July, and half of August with Hermione, then left to Andromeda’s so she could go spend the rest of August with the Weasley’s.  _Ginny_ and I are, not friends, but we don’t hate each other.  It’s strange.  Hermione and I are… _good_ friends.”

 

“So that’s the good part.  The bad part is that your father knows, so Voldemort knows.”

 

“Exactly.  Right now, I’m in danger.”

 

“So your mum thought Voldemort would come after you and kill you.  It makes sense.  How are things now?”

 

“She’s bloody angry with me.  She didn’t want me to leave, but she would’ve missed out on time that she always spends with Potter and Weasley, so I just left.  I’ve written her since then, but she’s only responded twice, and furiously.  She barely spoke a word to me today.”

 

“ _Malfoy_!” Hermione’s familiar voice suddenly shouted from outside the door, “ _Open it_!”

 

“Are you letting her know that I know?” Blaise questioned as Draco stood.

 

“More than likely.  I had lunch with Ginny and her.  Bloody crazy,” he laughed, opening the door and stepping aside so she could storm in.

 

“I don’t know who you think you are, but—oh.  Zabini.  Hello,” she cut herself off, swallowing audibly.

 

“It’s okay.  He knows,” Draco mumbled, locking the door again, “You and I need to talk.”

 

“I don’t _want_ to talk to you!  And how much does he know?”

 

“As much as Ginny.”

 

She had no retort to this, for which he was satisfied.

 

“Look, just hear me out, okay?  Please?”

 

“Fine,” she grumbled, crossing her arms.

 

“I can leave?” Blaise offered, standing.

 

“Thanks, mate.  I’ll see you at the feast.”

 

Blaise just nodded and clapped him on the back on his way out.  Draco sighed, sitting where his friend had been.

 

“It’s _okay_ , Hermione.  Blaise isn’t going to say anything.”

 

“I didn’t know you were good friends with him.  Well, I guess, I didn’t really think you were close friends with anyone, not even those brutes Crabbe and Goyle,” she muttered, sitting opposite him.

 

“Brutes is a very accurate description,” he laughed, leaning back.

 

His smile was contagious, and she had to break her angry façade, “Why?”

 

“Because I wanted you to have fun, because I didn’t want to cause suspicion,” he offered, cocking his head to the side.

 

“I missed you, you arse,” she mumbled, crossing the short distance and sitting next to him, letting their bodies touch.

 

“Trust me, I missed you, too.  Every day was torture,” he whispered, lifting his arm to rest around her shoulders and pulling her closer.

 

“Where did you go?” she asked quietly, letting her head drop to his shoulder and closing her eyes.

 

“Andromeda’s.  Tonks’ mother.”

 

“Fair enough.  Narcissa is friends with them?”

 

“Very good friends.  She figured it best to remain tied to the good side for at least my sake.”

 

“She was smart.”

 

He didn’t respond, simply held her closer, resting his chin on her mess of curly brown hair and staring out the window.  They’d cuddled close like this plenty of times, though neither would ever admit how comfortable and correct it felt.  He loved the feeling of her small, warm body so close to his tall, frigid one.  She felt so delicate, so breakable in his arms, and he tried his best to hold her tight, to give her the comfort in his strength.  And she felt welcomed, entirely at home, tucked away against his chest.  Sometimes, they’d even laid together, silence wrapping around them or small conversation flitting here and there.

 

“What are we doing?” Draco asked after what seemed like an eternity, his lips whispering against Hermione’s soft curls.

 

She didn’t respond immediately, but instead sunk deeper against his chest, relishing in the warmth that wrapped around her heart and curled her toes.

 

“I don’t know.  I don’t want to know.”

 

He nodded, because he didn’t either.  He touched the top of her head with his lips, which startled her slightly.

 

“Draco, why?  Why now?” she wondered, sitting.

 

“Because _now_ ,” he started, retracting his arm from her shoulders, “Now I’m not so sure of who I am anymore.”

 

“How do I know you’re not just going to go back again?  How do I know this isn’t just a farce?”

 

“Because,” he struggled with his words, and the comfort to speak came when she touched his long pale fingers, her warmth to his ice, “Because I don’t want to go back.  I want to be with you.”

 

It was a moment that would change them forever, and if the train hadn’t suddenly started to slow, it would have continued.

 

“We have to get our things ready,” Hermione suddenly said, straightening and standing, brushing herself off.

 

“Shit, you didn’t do your rounds,” she swore, looking around the room in confusion, “I hope they’ve behaved.”

 

“I’m sure they’re fine,” he assured her, watching her gaze move everywhere but to him, “Hermione, just sit a moment.”

 

“I can’t believe we’re already in our seventh year.  There’ll be so much to do.  And Heads, too.  It’ll be interesting,” she muttered more to herself than anyone, and Draco stood, sighing.

 

She reached up to the section above their heads and began to pull out her trunk, but Draco quickly intercepted her, touching her hands lightly.

 

“You’ll hurt yourself,” he murmured, lifting the trunk out for her and setting it on the seat.

 

He did the same with the rest of her belongings before turning to his.  Once they were all down, Hermione nodded and began to sift through everything, double-checking.  The train slowed to a stop, causing her to look up.

 

“We better go.  They’ll want us to help direct traffic,” she stated matter-of-factly.

 

He nodded, starting to let her leave until he gave in, sunk into his wants, and his fingers curled around her wrist.  He didn’t pull her to face him, didn’t tighten his grip until it hurt.  He wanted her to accept him, to allow him.  She swallowed the lump that had been forming in her throat, closed her eyes, and slowly turned, opening her brown eyes only to stare at the carpet.

 

“We can’t do this,” she whispered, looking up into his icy blue eyes.

 

She saw so much there, saw that his wall was completely gone, and he was _so_ vulnerable to her.  She’d experienced this Draco over the summer, this exposed and softened Malfoy that she never thought could possibly exist.  But it did, much to her surprise, and she’d grown very fond of the man beneath the frigid façade.

 

“Though I’m not sure I care that we shouldn’t.”

 

“Shouldn’t or can’t?” he had to confirm.

 

“Shouldn’t,” she allowed, and her jaw tilted upward, just a little.

 

He took it, and she sighed into him, her lips responding as his cool, slim mouth touched her full, warm one.  His fingers remained on her wrist, and they were motionless against each other, a slip of air separating them.  It was chaste, a first kiss.  It wasn’t what they wanted.

 

“Hermione,” he sighed, releasing her wrist and cupping her face as they parted, staring longingly at one another.

 

He waited, heart thudding loudly in his chest, and it felt like an eternity before she finally succumbed and her mouth was on his again.  Her arms looped around him, fingers lacing behind his back, and he kissed her deeply, passionately, lovingly.  They molded against one another, pressed against the wall, and they moved as one, mouths and hearts ignited with fiery pleasure.

 

They parted for air only twice, but their bodies moved closer and closer, and Draco let his fingers mesh in her beautiful curls as he tasted her, so sweet and perfect.  Hermione melted in his strong arms, secure and in love and full of desire.  They would never have separated, but fate had other ideas.

 

“Hermione!” a familiar voice yelled from in the hall, “Hermione, where are you?”

 

“Hermione!” a second voice shouted, and she shook suddenly as Draco left her lips.

 

His forehead met hers, and he let out a long breath, minty and cool.

 

“Draco,” she began, and her knees buckled.

 

He shot backward so she wouldn’t hit him before falling next to her, pulling her into his arms.

 

“It’s okay,” he whispered as tears ran unabashed down her face, “It’s okay.  I promise.”

 

“They’re going to hate me.”

 

“They won’t know,” he assured, holding her close to him and composing himself mentally, “It’s going to be okay.”

 

“I don’t want to be away from you.  Being at the Burrow was so horrible.  I missed you every second I was there.”

 

“As did I.”

 

“I’m supposed to hate you.”

 

“Hermione,” he laughed, pulling them apart, “Do you _know_ what is on my arm, what fate has decided for me?  Do you know what I am, how dead I would be should my father find out what we are?”

 

“What are we?” she asked, completely disregarding everything else for now.

 

“We are…” he trailed off, unsure, “We’re friends.  Maybe something more.  We have to figure it out, but not right now.  Your friends are looking for you.”

 

“Harry is going to find out.”

 

“I know,” he acknowledged, “But Harry isn’t as pigheaded as Weasley.  I’m sorry.”

 

“No, you’re right.  You’re right,” she repeated, shaking her head, “I have to go.  Draco.”

 

He brought them together once more, and it was a short, beautiful kiss.

 

“Go.  Let them know where you are.”

 

She nodded, and they separated, though reluctantly.  He went to gather his cloak and a book, pushing his things away from Hermione’s as she opened the door.  He listened to her call for them, and he watched her beautiful figure step out of the compartment and greet them.  Sighing, he tucked his book inside his cloak, pulled the fabric close around him, and slipped out of the open doorway, sliding out of view into the exiting crowd.  He wouldn’t let her hurt like this.

 

\--

 

“Well?” Blaise elbowed him as Dumbledore nodded his head and the tables exploded with food and drink.

 

“Uh,” Draco paused, looking down, “We, uhm.”

 

“I get it,” he interrupted, nodding, “Eat.  You look sickly.”

 

“So, Draco,” Daphne Greengrass suddenly drawled, leaning across the table, “How’s the parents?”

 

“Fine enough.  Spent the summer away,” he replied shortly, “Blaise,” he went back to his best friend, “I don’t know how to go about this.”

 

“Is she accepting?”

 

“Of course she is,” he sighed, “She always has been.”

 

“True enough.  And she knows about,” he paused to motion to his arm.

 

“She does.  She has.  As for the room,” Draco stopped to shrug, “It’ll be interesting.”

 

“Do they know?”

 

“Harry will,” he said in barely a whisper, “We’ll talk more after.  Theo’s staring.”

 

“Are you telling him?”

 

“Probably.  I need someone on my side besides you, no offense.”

 

“None taken,” Blaise laughed, straightening, “I understand completely.  Want us to meet you an hour or so after dinner?” he continued more loudly, nodding toward Theodore Nott.

 

“I’d enjoy that.”

 

They left the topic at that, and Draco couldn’t help but admit that he felt better, at least a little.  He smiled to himself, and turned his gaze upward, meeting Hermione’s across the hall.  A brilliant smile spread across her lips, and his heart pounded.  He felt warm, and happy, something he hadn’t felt in years.  His blue eyes melted a little, and a sparkle touched them, if only briefly, for a hand fell onto his thigh, then, and his walls shot up, his face contorting into that of disgust as he dropped his gaze and looked to his right.

 

“Excuse me,” he spat, swatting Pansy’s hand away.

 

“Draco, I missed you this summer,” she purred, scooting closer to him as he lifted his arms up to avoid contact, “You never wrote.”

 

“I never do,” he hissed, trying to lean away from her, “Pansy, I’m not interested.”

 

“Oh, Draco,” she continued, crawling her fingers up his chest and tapping his mouth, “You’re always interested.”

 

“Pansy!” he exclaimed, startling those around him, “Get off me,” he finished in an undertone, glaring steadily at her.

 

She returned the glare, anger emanating off of her, “What happened to you?”

 

He returned his eyes to the table of food, but his stomach was empty, and he felt sick.

 

“Get out of here,” Blaise whispered beside him.

 

He needed no other encouragement, and he was soon letting one of the Great Hall doors shut quietly behind him.  He collapsed against the wall, face on fire and heart ricocheting off his ribs.  His knees gave out, and he fell down the wall, landing heavily on his bottom.  He wanted to get away.  He missed his home, his mother, his life.  Everything had been taken from him, just because of a simple change of heart.

 

“Get up, Draco,” someone muttered, and he was suddenly pulled to his feet.

 

“I don’t know the way to the Heads house, so we’re just going to Slytherin’s common room,” the voice continued, draping an arm around his shoulder, “Can you grab the other one?”

 

“’Course,” another voice intoned, and he was lifted off his weak knees and was being dragged between his two best friends, two that he appreciated more than anything at this moment.

 

“What’s got him like this?” Theo asked quietly as they hurried through the castle.

 

“Hermione Granger,” Blaise replied, and Draco heard no more.


	3. Space

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which confessions are to be had, Draco is a statue, and space is needed.

They were interrupted by soft voices and quiet footsteps.  Hermione looked up from her position on the couch next to Ginny, and she did her best to hide her smile as Draco came into view, two Slytherin-clad friends behind him.  Ginny cleared her throat next to Hermione, reminding her, but she only nodded, aware.

 

“Hermione,” Draco acknowledged as they approached the foot of the stairs, nodding once.

 

His eyes scanned her friends as Blaise locked eyes with Ginny.  She shrugged, and he smiled.  No one noticed the exchange until Blaise nodded his head toward Theodore, and Ron looked at his sister curiously.  Ginny shook her head in response, her gaze shooting to Harry quickly before she noticed Ron staring.  She gave him a small, afraid smile that he narrowed his eyes at.

 

Draco continued on harmlessly up the set of stairs leading to his bedroom, the boys trailing behind him.  Once the door had closed, Ron opened his mouth.

 

“I’m so glad we don’t have classes until Monday,” Hermione intoned before he could say a word, “It’s weird, though.  Usually we come back on Fridays.”

 

“Except our third year when we got here on a Thursday.”

 

“But a Tuesday?  What in the world was Dumbledore thinking?”

 

“Dad said they did it one year when he was in school,” Ginny said, shrugging, “Said the Marauders let loose the third day,” she laughed, looking toward Harry.

 

His smile was bright, but sad.

 

“Ron, I think we should let the girls have their talk,” he began, standing, “Besides, we’ve got loads of planning to do for try-outs.”

 

“Actually,” Ginny started, looking toward Hermione, “Well, never mind.  Harry, I need to talk to you tonight, at some point.  I’m going to stay here a little longer with ‘Mione, but can you break from your Quidditch talk for just a little bit later?”

 

“Of course, darling,” he cooed, leaning down to kiss her on the forehead, “I’ll be down in the common room at ten.  That gives us an hour, shut up,” he added to a grumbling Ron.

 

“You didn’t have to kiss her right in front of me,” Ron spat distastefully as they walked away.

 

“She’s my girlfriend, Ronald.  At least I’m not snogging her.”

 

“Oh, shut up, ass.  I don’t want to know about that!”

 

Hermione smiled as they headed off, and it was a few minutes before Ginny spoke up.

 

“So, what happened on the train?”

 

Hermione opened her mouth to answer immediately, but shut it after a few seconds.  What _had_ happened on the train?  Many things, things she wasn’t really sure of just yet.

 

“I think… I think I’m going insane, Ginny.”

 

“Just because you like Malfoy doesn’t mean you’re going insane.  Okay, well, maybe a little, but I think the circumstances are different, considering how much time you two have spent together this past summer.  Which, granted, is odd, but—”

 

“We kissed,” Hermione interrupted her.

 

Ginny sat in a stunned silence, unsure of how to react.

 

“We’re not dating.  I don’t even know if we could.  But,” she paused to swallow, “I want nothing more than to be with him.”

 

“Ron thinks he fancies you,” Ginny burst out, hiding her face in her hands, “He always has, but he was going to finally address it this year.  I don’t know when, but I do know it’s not too far off.  Clearly,” she sighed, straightening, “You’re not going to accept him.  Just… can I tell Harry?”

 

“Of course.  I was going to tell you that you could.  Draco told Blaise, and I think Theodore, as well.  I can’t believe they’re both okay with it.”

 

“They’re his best friends,” Ginny said with a shrug, “I’m not surprised.  They’ve probably known all along.”

 

“What do you mean _all along_?”

 

“Oh, Hermione, come on, you know he’s liked you longer than just this summer.  Something made him go to your house.  Something has been boiling inside of him for a while now.  I can just tell.”

 

“I don’t know how to ask him,” Hermione sighed, rubbing her face, “I don’t know what I’m supposed to do next.”

 

“Well, did he kiss you?”

 

“It was so mutual.  Everything so far has been.”

 

“Then let him make the next move.  He’s the biggest obstacle right now.  We don’t really know what he’s thinking.”

 

“Okay.  Alright.”

 

“Just breathe, Hermione.  Everything’s going to turn out alright.”

 

“I know, I know.  I just fret for no reason.  You know me.”

 

Ginny nodded, smiling, before Hermione posed her next topic, “Tell me about how you and Harry are.”

 

\--

 

It wasn’t until Thursday morning that things began again.  Hermione spent all of Wednesday with Harry and Ron, but decided that she was sleeping in some on Thursday.  At nine, she left for the common room, taking a book with her and yawning as she descended the stairs.  She was dressed simply, still in her nighttime clothes, in small green and white plaid shorts and a matching green vneck.  She’d quickly braided her hair off to the side, and, as she settled down to read, she drew a blanket over her legs, and didn’t even finish a chapter before her eyes slipped shut and she fell into a world of dreams.

 

\--

 

Draco awoke at ten, blinking away the bright sunlight that shone through his open curtains.  He groaned and rolled onto his stomach, pressing his face into his black pillow.  Black silk sheets adorned the bed, and the room was decorated similarly.  Black curtains hung from his window, and a green shag rug covered his floor.  Green accented the room around him, stylishly, thankfully.  Silver sparkled in small ways here and there, which he liked greatly.

 

Sighing, he pushed himself up on his elbows, rubbing his face tiredly.  His hair stuck up on odd ends, and he ran his fingers through it in frustration, pushing it back to its regular messy state, regular as of recently.  He’d ditched the slicked back, neat look about a week into staying with Hermione as it only made him look pretentious and more like his father.

 

When he finally sat up and decided to get ready, it was ten thirty, and he felt well-rested.  He slowly climbed out of bed, plaid pants sitting on his hips.  Hermione had bought him them in the spur of the moment after relentless complaining that all of his clothing was black, and all of his pajamas were silk.  He had to admit, though he never would to her face, that the blue and green plaid cotton was _so_ comfortable.

 

Stretching, he made his way toward his dresser, grabbing a towel, new boxers, pants, and a t-shirt.  He gathered everything in one arm, snatched up his toothbrush in the other, and made his way out of his room.  He stopped halfway down his stairs, however, as he caught sight of the sleeping Hermione.  His smile was instantaneous, and he set his things down on the coffee table, kneeling before her.

 

He carefully took her book out of her hands, dog-earing the page and setting it down on its front.  After turning back to her, he touched her cheek with his long finger, just a small grace, but it ignited a fire in his hand that he knew only she could make happen.  Leaning forward, he touched his lips to hers delicately, and she stirred beneath him as he pulled away, smiling widely.  Slowly, softly, her eyes fluttered open and it took her a moment before she registered the handsome man before her.

 

“Mm, Draco,” she whispered, smiling and closing her eyes again, “Am I dreaming?”

 

“I didn’t know you dreamt of me.  That’s sweet of you.  How long?”

 

“Long enough.  What time is it?  What are you doing in my room?” she suddenly exclaimed, sitting upright and nearly hitting him in the process, “Wait…” she trailed off, looking around, “Oh, I must’ve fell asleep reading and—” she cut herself off as she noticed him again.

 

“Hermione,” he laughed, holding up a hand, “Calm down.”

 

He straightened, lifting his things in his arms as he went, and she was mesmerized.

 

“I’m going to take a shower.  D’you wanna do something after?” he asked over his shoulder, not waiting for a response as the door closed behind him.

 

He was _beautiful_.  His pale skin was flawless, and his muscles shifted as he walked.  He looked like a statue, marble skin sculpted into perfection.  Small freckles touched his skin here and there, where some would see it as a flaw, Hermione saw it as a plus.  His pants hung low, just hugging his hips, which showed off his thin but built figure.

 

She shook herself from her trance as the water turned on, putting a hand to her head and smiling.  Her stomach was doing all sorts of crazy tumbles, so she waited a minute before standing and retreating to her room.  Without showering, she fixed her braid, mussed it up a little, and started picking out clothes.  She wore an outfit she knew Draco liked, that of white shorts, a white long sleeve button-up, a long black vest, and black heels.  As she was rolling up her sleeves, a knock sounded on her door, and, eyebrows furrowing, she went to answer it, only peeking her head around the door as she opened it.

 

“I just wanted to kiss you,” Draco whispered, leaning forward and smiling before pressing his mouth to hers.

 

She reacted on instinct, kissing back just as softly.

 

“That’s all.  I’ll see you in fifteen?” he asked, leaning back again and touching her nose with his finger.

 

“Of course.  Fifteen,” she murmured before closing the door and sinking against it.  Who was this man?

 

\--

 

Their day was spent far from Hogwarts.  They wandered the farthest edge of the lake, picnicked for lunch, chatted under the clouds, and then blew bubbles and ran through the Quidditch field.  When dusk finally began to settle, they were on the roof of the castle, Draco’s broom not far from them.  His arms were wrapped tightly around her and Hermione felt as though she were living a dream.

 

“What are we doing?” she whispered into the silence, eyes closed and face nestled into the crook of his neck.

 

“We’re doing what couples should do,” he responded nonchalantly, but she heard the hesitancy in his voice.

 

“You said two days ago,” she began, pushing away from him so she could see his face, “that we were just friends.”

 

“Maybe I don’t want to be just friends.  Maybe I would greatly enjoy it if you were my girlfriend.”

 

“Secretly,” she scoffed.

 

“There is nothing more we can do.”

 

“I _know_ ,” she sighed, “I just, well, no, I can’t say I wish it were different because I know that’s silly.  We’ve always been enemies.  This will take some getting used to for people.”

 

“Especially Weasley.”

 

“He’ll never accept it because he won’t see you.”

 

“I know,” Draco nodded, “But you do, and that’s all that matters.  So, Miss Granger, I’m going to ask you very politely and carefully so that I don’t fall,” he continued, detaching himself from her and looking straight in her eyes, “Will you be my girlfriend, please?”

 

“Of course,” she smiled, leaning forward and kissing him, “Can you please hold me for just a little longer?”

 

“Always,” he responded, drawing her back to him, and they were in silence for another five minutes before he spoke again, “Shall we discuss public appearances?”

 

“I think we should develop a civilized manner toward one another, though we still obviously hate each other.”

 

“That sounds fair enough.  I’m in more than half your classes.”

 

“Does it work out like that?  Harry’s in all of them.”

 

“Will you talk to him about this?”

 

“Soon enough.  Ginny told him the other night.  He hasn’t confronted me yet.”

 

“And Ron?” Draco questioned, and the first name still tasted sour on his tongue.

 

“No.  He doesn’t need to know.”

 

“Fair enough.  It’s getting late.  I should get you back.  Dinner is soon.”

 

“I’m going to hate eating without you.”

 

“I’m going to hate every public moment from henceforth,” he whispered, touching her cheek with his lips, “I hope you realize that.  You’ve put me in a very compromising position, Granger.”

 

“Oh, please, _never_ call me that again.”

 

“Are we going by first names in public, too?”

 

“Might as well.  Explained by the fact that we now live amongst each other.  On that topic, however, who is allowed within the common room?”

 

“I should say only those that know, like Blaise, Theo, Ginny, Harry, and, well, Ron, I guess if you want.”

 

“It’s really relatively impossible to separate him and Harry, and Harry usually follows Ginny.  I know.  It’s going to be difficult.”

 

“We’re strong,” he assured, smiling, “C’mon.  Before it gets too dark.”

 

She took his offered hand, and, together, they stumbled through the darkness to Draco’s broom, mounted it, and were off.  They reached the Great Hall in good time, spacing their entrances with ten minute intervals.  They shared a momentary glance that made Hermione look down and blush rapidly.  How were they ever to do 


	4. Confession

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Draco forgets about secrecy, Hermione confesses, and Harry turns his back.

“Did you talk to him?” Hermione asked as they walked to dinner a week later.

 

She’d been waiting anxiously for Harry to confront her, but no such thing had occurred yet.  Ginny sighed, reaching up to run her fingers through her hair.

 

“I couldn’t, Hermione,” she began, shaking her head, “You should’ve heard him.  It was horrible.”

 

“What happened?” she asked, concerned, her eyebrows knitting together.

 

“I brought him up to my dorm to talk, and I brought up how Draco and you had become closer.  Not necessarily friends, but not enemies.  How you used first names and acted civilly.  He quite nearly exploded.  Had it been mid-day and not ten o’clock at night, I’m sure he would’ve yelled.  He has to warm up to the idea.  Hermione, he’s still thinking about those Horcruxes.  I just know Dumbledore is going to make him go out again and look for them.  I’m so afraid.  And the idea of you being civil with Draco makes him mental because, well, because of what Draco _is_.  He knows.  A lot of people do, if merely by suspicion.  It’s crazy, Hermione.  I don’t know how I’m going to stop him if he tries to leave.”

 

“You can’t.  I didn’t know it was all that serious.”

 

“I hate to put it like this, but it’s because you weren’t there over the summer, Hermione.  You didn’t see him, didn’t watch him leave in the dead of night.  He’s already found another one and destroyed it.  Hermione, it’s really bad.”

 

“Okay.  Don’t tell him, then.  I’ll figure out something.  What?” she added with a high laugh as the boys sat down and gave them curious looks.

 

“Nothing.  You two are just acting all suspicious and secretive,” Ron muttered, shrugging, “Just girl stuff, I guess.”

 

He turned to Harry, immediately engrossing him in conversation, and Hermione sighed.  She hated having to lie.

 

\--

 

September happened.  It happened with grace, with destruction, and with heartache.  Every moment that passed in fake public hatred stabbed the couple in their united hearts, though it made them even stronger in their haven that was the Heads House.  It was mid-October when things got rough.

 

“Ugly Mudblood,” someone grunted suddenly, and Hermione was nearly knocked over on her way to Potions.

 

She looked around, Harry catching her elbow as she stumbled.

 

“You okay?” he asked her as Ron stopped with them, searching the throbbing crowd of students.

 

“Yea,” she answered hesitantly, eyebrows meeting as she glared at the passing students, trying to find the culprit, “Just keep walking.  It was nothing.”

 

Not five minutes had passed, and the same event occurred.  This time, Hermione whipped around faster, grabbing onto Harry as she tripped, and he pulled her up hastily.  She was spared having to look for the bloody annoyance, however, as the students suddenly screeched and threw themselves out of the way.  Vincent Crabbe crashed to the ground, sliding out from the crowd and smashing into the wall.

 

“DO IT AGAIN!” Draco roared, wand held in a white-knuckled fist as he pushed through people and stalked toward the crumbled figure.

 

“What the _fuck_ , Malfoy?” he yelped, struggling to get up.

 

Draco hexed the wall in his anger, blowing a hole through it as he threw his forearm against Crabbe’s throat, pinning him to the wall once he’d stood up.

 

“ _Do it again_ ,” he hissed, “ _and I will hand you over on a silver plate_.”

 

His voice was even, dangerous.

 

“Like you even follow our Dark Lord anymore,” another voice sneered to his right.

 

Fuming, Draco turned to face the speaker, and Daphne met his steely gaze with a confident smirk.  Crabbe suddenly shoved Draco off him, only to be hexed back into the wall.  He sunk to the ground, unconscious, and Hermione broke away from her two friends, shoving through the watching crowd.

 

“Your lover’s on her way to save the day,” Daphne continued, crossing her arms and arching an eyebrow.

 

“Clear out!” McGonagall’s voice rang out through the students.

 

They started to shuffle out of her way as Hermione finally broke out into the circled area of space.

 

“Go,” Hermione hissed, pushing Draco hard in the chest, “Move.  Now.”

 

He didn’t respond at first until she reached up, grabbed his jaw, and forced him to look at her.

 

“Don’t make me—”

 

She didn’t have time to finish his sentence as he took her hand and they were off into the crowd.  McGonagall shouted for order as the students blinked in confusion and waited for her to finally make her way through.  Draco was fast, but Hermione was able to keep up, following him as he darted past people, and they became a blur.  Finally, they turned down an empty hallway, but that didn’t stop him.  Only when they reached a classroom did he react.  He charmed the room to silence it, let go of Hermione’s hand, and threw a violent hex at the nearest object.  The desk went flying as he stormed off to the opposite side of the room, hands in his hair.

 

She didn’t say a word, just watched as he shook his head and dropped his wand.  Waves of anger rolled off of him uncontrollably, and Hermione tried to project a mood of serenity, but to no avail.

 

“Draco,” she tried, but stopped when he put up a hand.

 

She crossed her arms over her chest, waiting patiently until another five minutes ticked by.

 

“We’re going to be late for Potions if we don’t leave,” she finally sighed.

 

He turned around, and her face fell dramatically.  Though his features were composed, his eyes spoke a world of sadness.  He had no control over the absolute agony that ripped through his icy pools of grey, and Hermione was instantly compelled to comfort him.

 

“Talk to me,” she whispered, touching his cheek gently with her fingers.

 

“I’ve called you that,” he answered, shaking his head and turning away from her, “I’ve _said_ that to you.”

 

“Draco,” she scoffed, though she knew she’d always carry pain in her heart for the cruel words he’d uttered to her over the years, “We’re different now.”

 

He shook his head, put his back to her again, took a deep breath, and pocketed his wand.

 

“We’re going to be late for Potions,” he muttered, taking her hand and leading her away from the room.

 

She didn’t say a word as she felt his fingers interlace with hers, and she was shocked into silence as he opened the door and pulled her out without even looking.

 

“Draco,” she finally hissed, squeezing his hand.

 

“I know,” he mumbled, tightening his grip, “Just.  I need you right now.”

 

She nodded, stepping closer to him as she did.  The halls were mostly empty, and they were able to safely navigate their way to the dungeons.

 

“Wait,” he whispered only a few yards from the doors.

 

There were a few students milling about outside, and Draco sighed as they found shadows, leaning Hermione against the wall.

 

“Living outside those walls without you is so hard,” he whispered, touching his forehead to hers and closing his eyes, “I want to just grab you and kiss you in front of everyone sometimes, but I know I can’t,” he continued, lacing his fingers with hers, “I want to love you, right in front of the whole school.”

 

Hermione swallowed a lump in her throat at his words.  Love.  Something she wasn’t ready to admit, but something that she knew existed in the pounding of her heart, the tumbling of her stomach, and the fireworks, explosions, crazy butterflies.

 

“Draco,” she whispered back, turning her chin up and their lips met, hot and cold, fire and ice, passionate.

 

“I love you,” he finally said when they parted, squeezing her hands, “I can’t ignore it any longer.  I love you so much.”

 

She took in a long breath, memorizing his face and soaking in his scent before she spoke, “I love you with all my heart, Draco.  But, are we ready for this?”

 

“No,” he admitted, sighing and pulling away, “We aren’t.  Can we spend the night together, though?  Just us.  We haven’t in a while, and I miss you.”

 

“Of course, darling,” she whispered, leaning forward and kissing him delicately, “We’ll go to dinner early.  Then we can have the entire night to just us.”

 

“Okay,” he said with a smile, and it seemed as though his entire face lit up, “Just us.  You go in first.  I don’t mind being late.”

 

They shared one last kiss before Hermione stepped away from the shadows and headed toward the Potions room.  The stares that followed her from the door to her seat were not welcome.

 

“What’s with everyone?” she whispered as she sat down, and then realized that Harry and Ron were staring at her in equal confusion, “What?” she exclaimed a little too loud, glaring at them.

 

“ _What_ ,” Harry began slowly, “was that about?”

 

“Was what about?” she asked, and then remembered how she’d pushed away from them, shoved through the crowd, and how she’d gotten right in Draco’s face, demanding he leave, and how he’d grabbed her hand and ran off with her.  She remembered, and her heart sank.

 

“You.  Malfoy,” was all he could manage, and Hermione noticed his hands were balled into fists.  Ron’s ears were red, and his eyes were dark.

 

“I don’t know,” she admitted, looking down, “I wasn’t thinking.”

 

“ _Malfoy_ , Hermione,” Harry hissed, “Of all people.  _Malfoy_.  What possessed you to _help_ him?”

 

“He was _defending_ me!” she said under her breath, turning her angry eyes to him, “He didn’t deserve whatever McGonagall was going to say.”

 

“Oh?  So you’re on his side now?” Ron jutted in, shaking his head, “ _Malfoy_ , Hermione.”

 

“I heard you the first time,” she snapped, straightening, “It was just one time.  Let it go.”

 

“Ginny told me you two were being civil, that you didn’t hate each other.”

 

“I never said I didn’t hate him,” she said a little too quickly, turning back to them, “We just decided to come to an agreement, make a truce.”

 

“A _truce_ ,” Harry nearly spat, unclenching and clenching his fists, “A fucking truce, Hermione.”

 

“Harry!” she exclaimed, and then stopped when someone cleared their throat in front of them.

 

The three looked up to see Snape standing above them, eyes narrowed.

 

“Detention.  One week.”

 

“But, sir—” Ron began.

 

“Two weeks, Mister Weasley.”

 

He quickly shut his mouth, sulking as Snape walked off, black cloaks billowing around him.  The class went on uninterrupted, and, though Hermione tried to quickly dart away from the boys, they blocked her exit and forced her in between them.  They didn’t say a word as they continued on through the halls to Charms, and Hermione was becoming increasingly nervous as they glanced at her out of the corners of their eyes every so often.  She just wished they would yell at her so she could fight back.  But this, this she couldn’t defend herself against.

 

“Hermione,” Blaise suddenly appeared in front of them, causing them all to halt abruptly.

 

He smiled warmly, bowing at the waist, and, when he straightened, he winked and leaned forward.

 

“I bring a trinket,” he whispered, low enough so that only she could hear, “He wishes you love.”

 

He reached forward, taking her hand, and he was quick to press a folded piece of paper into her hand before stepping back, closing her fingers, and lifting her hand to kiss it.  She watched all this unfold in horror, and she could practically feel the shock and anger emanating off of her two best friends.

 

“Harry.  Ron,” he acknowledged as he straightened again.

 

He nodded his head at each of them before disappearing, and Hermione was quick to run forward, not looking back as they both didn’t move.  She quickly found her regular seat in Charms, opened her book, and looked back down at her hand.  Her curiosity overcame here, and she quickly unfolded the note, careful not to tear it.

 

_I love you._

It was written in Draco’s familiar scrawl, and just the sight of his elegant writing brought tears to her eyes.  She’d ignored him constantly in the last weeks of August, infuriated with him for leaving.  She’d only written twice, and to yell.  But it made her mad.  When they could have loved together, been together, he’d left.  She knew why, but she still wished it had all happened differently.

 

“Hogsmeade trip this weekend,” Harry mumbled, sitting down, “We’re going, right?  It’s the first one.”

 

Hermione looked up in shock.  He wasn’t yelling.  She watched him look at Ron, and understood.  They would talk to her later.  Lunch was silent.  Ginny noticed, and, before she could even attempt to take Hermione away afterward, the boys were directing her out of the castle.  She sent a worrying glance back at her friend, and the redhead just shrugged and sighed, walking away.

 

“Don’t even tell me you and Zabini are friends,” Harry began as they reached the Quidditch field.

 

“We’re not friends, we just—”

 

“You two were pretty cozy,” Ron interrupted, shaking his head, “What’s going on, ‘Mione?”

 

“Guys, it’s nothing,” she tried to reason, but even she knew how weak her voice sounded; she lacked every ounce of conviction she wished she had.

 

They sat a few rows up from ground level, and a silence fell around them before Harry spoke again, “What’s going on?”

 

Hermione sighed, rubbing her face.

 

“It’s nothing,” she said from behind her hands, “It’s just difficult.  Draco and I live in the same house now, and we’ve had to get along or else we’ll end up killing each other.  I don’t know what the hell that just was with Blaise.  He’s weird sometimes.  But Blaise and Theo are always in there, it just became natural that we formed a truce, too.  I don’t know, guys.  I just don’t know.”

 

She was glad for their silence.  She’d had time to think of a good lie.  After the lie, they didn’t say anything for a little while, and she felt as if they were silently communicating.

 

“I don’t like it,” Ron was the first to speak, “I think it’s weird.  And it’s only hurting us.  Hermione, we don’t need that right now.  Harry’s got enough on his plate as is with the Horcruxes, and now you’re adding in a _Death Eater_ , maybe three.”

 

“Blaise isn’t a Death Eater,” she scoffed, shaking her head.

 

“How do you know that?” Harry shouted, standing, “How do you know they’re not just doing this to get information, to infiltrate all that I’m trying to do?”

 

He was pacing, and Ron wouldn’t look at her.

 

“How do you know that you’re not just a pawn in some game that Lucius thought up?  That you’re not just a piece that they’ll dispose of as soon as they’ve got what they want?  Malfoy is malicious, Hermione!  He always has been, and he always will be!  No _truce_ is going to change that!  Just because you live in the same house as him, just because the two of you are Heads now means _nothing_.  He is still the slimy git that he always has been, and that’s never going to change.  You’re acting as if you _know_ them, as if you… hang out with them,” he concluded, stopping and spinning on his heel, “How much time exactly do you spend with them?  How did it get to the point that you’d even made nice with his _friends_?” he spat the last word, stalking toward her and bending so that he was at eye level, “What aren’t you telling us?”

 

He was too watchful, too intuitive.  She couldn’t lie to him.

 

“He spent the summer at my house,” she finally admitted, ducking around Harry and hurrying down the rows.

 

The explosion that she expected didn’t happen when she thought it would.  It took a few minutes before Harry processed exactly what she’d said and, even when he did, he still stood, blinked, and cocked his head.

 

“He?” he asked, and she knew that he desperately wanted an answer she couldn’t give.

 

“Draco.  He was at my house from mid-June to mid-August.  That’s why I didn’t go to the Burrow sooner.”

 

Ron was already getting up.  He went right by Harry, put up a hand when she tried to talk to him, and kept storming off.  Harry was soon to follow.  And Hermione stood there in the chilly September air, wishing for everything to change.


	5. Publicity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which public appearances are made, Hermione finds love, and Draco smiles.

“I just don’t know what to do,” Hermione mumbled into her hands, hiccupping through her sobs, “They were so angry.  How will I ever tell them we’re together?  Just the thought of us being civil had Harry raving, and then, when they found out he spent the summer at my house, they wouldn’t even look at me.  And Ron, Ginny,” she trailed off, crying harder.

 

“I know,” the redhead cooed, rubbing her back, “But there’s nothing we can do about it.  If Draco really means something to you, they’ll come around eventually.”

 

“How do I even know he means something to me?  He’s a Slytherin, Ginny.  _Slytherin_.  And a _Death Eater_ , no less.  I’m _in love_ with the very thing Harry is working to defeat.”

 

“Love?” she repeated, straightening and snapping her hand away from Hermione, “Does he know this?”

 

“He said it first, though I know I feel it,” she mumbled, following Ginny’s movements and wiping her eyes.

 

“Did you say it back?”

 

“Of course I did.  I wanted to.”

 

“Then Ron and Harry should accept it eventually.  Harry’s just going crazy now because he’s dealing with all the Horcruxes and such.  You know how he is.  Sometimes he forgets to think outside of his own head, and he gets so caught up in what he thinks he needs to do.  They’ll be hard to convince, but, I mean, you’re their best friend, Hermione.  They’ll realize it’s for the best to just accept it with time.”

 

Both girls looked up as someone cleared their throat, and Hermione’s smile instantly surfaced as she saw Draco leaning against the banister.

 

“I didn’t want to interrupt her monologue,” he said kindly, returning the smile, “Though I hope, for your sake, she’s right.”

 

He descended the rest of the stairs, and he was quick to cross the distance, kneel in front of Hermione, and reach up, thumb rubbing away her tears.

 

“Please don’t cry.  It breaks my heart,” he whispered, frowning just a little, “Everything will be okay in the end.  I’m almost positive.”

 

“But _how_?” she sighed, shoulders falling, “I’m dating _you_ , the enemy, a Death Eater, what Harry is fighting against.  He is going right against your _father_ , Draco, and you know I’ll support him.  I’m not going to go against Dumbledore and Harry and all that they’re fighting for just to be with you.  But I don’t want to leave you either.  I _can’t_ leave you.  I just hate that I’m fighting with my two best friends over being civil with you.  What are they going to do when they find out that we’re dating?”

 

“Hermione,” Draco began slowly, and she watched the pain come to life in his eyes, “We don’t have to be together.  If you want, I can walk right out and pretend none of this ever happened.  If it makes you happier to be without me, then I’ll leave.”

 

His words settled like a bomb inside of her.

 

“Have you gone to dinner yet?” was her answer.

 

He took the distraction well, “I haven’t.  I was going to in a little bit.”

 

“Let’s go together.  There’ll be hardly anyone there because it’s so early.  We can sit together.”

 

Her answer was hidden, but it rang clear in Draco’s mind.  He knew that she would never live without him if she could help it.  He knew that the fear he felt toward the truth in her love was unnecessary.  He knew that the love he felt for her would conquer his father’s infuriation.

 

It was October third.

 

\--

 

Hogwarts had never before seen a sight quite like it.  To the outside world, they were civil, friends almost.  They laughed together, and Draco Malfoy hardly even laughed with his own Slytherins.  They sat at the end, so as to avoid Hermione’s usual spot and to _attempt_ to call less attention to themselves.  It was impossible to ignore, though.  Two sworn enemies, _friends_.  Whispers ran through the Great Hall, from students and teachers alike.  All watched curiously.

 

“I don’t understand it,” McGonagall sighed, watching them interact, watching how Draco’s shoulders shook with a small laugh, how Hermione smiled in response to his happiness.

 

“It’s called love,” Dumbledore replied with a knowing wink.

 

“Love,” she scoffed, “They’re barely friends, Albus.”

 

“Friends enjoy one another’s company, Minerva.  Those in love react to one another when together.”

 

She paused to look back down at the odd happening, and she saw what Albus did.  Draco straightened , speaking, and Hermione’s eyes followed his every movement, her own body slowly leaning closer to him and straightening as he had.  When he finished, she instantly contradicted him, touching his arm as she responded to whatever he’d said.  A smile graced his features, a beautiful and genuine smile, one that caused her to shake her head, still talking furiously, but a smile of her own was appearing as his eyes watched her face, soaked in her features, memorized every curve and line.

 

“But _how_?” she wondered, turning back to Dumbledore.

 

“The summer.  I spoke to Narcissa not too long ago.”

 

“Albus!” she scoffed, but he was quick to lift a hand.

 

“Narcissa’s first and foremost care is Draco, not Tom.  She loves Lucius, and she would do anything to protect him and help him, but you know that she wouldn’t think twice before lying to Tom about Draco.  She loves him, as any mother would love her son.  They have such a deep connection, one that overpowers their lives as Death Eaters.  She reminds me of Lily in that respect.  She told me of everything that happened in the summer.  They spent it together.  It appears Draco has been rather fond of our Miss Granger for some time, and his father seemed to have found out.  Narcissa knew that when Tom found out, it would mean the death of her son or some other horrid fate.  He went to Hermione, pleading, and she took him in.  His safety rests in our hands now.”

 

“And you will protect him,” McGonagall said, shaking her head, “Albus, what if it’s a trap?”

 

“A Malfoy would not ruin his reputation as such just for the Dark Lord.  And you know Tom wouldn’t ask of that just to get close to Harry.  I doubt he even knows Hermione exists.”

 

“As such,” McGonagall repeated, looking up again, and her breath was taken.

 

“Are you sure?” she heard Draco ask in a low voice, mouth tight and eyes a world of worry.

 

“I love you.  Of course I’m sure,” Hermione responded with certainty, and she watched history unfold before her.

 

Their fingers interlaced, a sign of unity, of utter respect and adoration.  Beside her, Dumbledore beamed, watching as Draco lifted their hands, kissed the back of Hermione’s hand delicately, and leaned in toward her.

 

“I love you, too,” he whispered to her, lips gracing her cheek before they were out of earshot.

 

“Albus,” McGonagall immediately gasped, turning toward him.

 

“Minerva,” he laughed, “Let it be.”

 

His large chair pushed back, and she dropped the subject as he disappeared from sight.  Fire and ice, united.

 

\--

 

Something had awoken in Hermione, something that wanted attention, something that was screaming Draco’s name.  She pushed it away as she whispered the word to their portrait, sighing as Draco’s lips continued to dance across her neck.  When she pulled away from him and walked through the tunnel, he grumbled something inaudible behind her and quickly followed.  Only when the portrait had shut behind them and they’d reached the top of the steps did he slip his arms around her waist and pull her close.

 

“What has gotten into you?” she giggled, turning in his arms, but she was silenced with a beautiful kiss, one that left her shaking on the inside.

 

When they parted, Hermione let the want take over, let it blossom inside of her until she could barely stand it anymore and she kissed him in lust.  He tasted it, and he instantly wanted her.  She was still Hermione, however, and her brain caught up soon enough.

 

“Draco,” she hissed, suddenly breaking away and putting her hands to his chest, “ _No_.”

 

He bit his lip to refrain from groaning, but she could see it everywhere, in the way his lips were red and swollen, in how dark his blue eyes were, in how warm he looked.  He made her falter, made her want everything he wanted.

 

“You look alive,” she whispered, stalling.

 

He didn’t respond, didn’t trust himself to, just simply waited.  She turned her back to him, and he watched her walk away, watched her pause at the foot of the stairs, and he sighed as she looked up at him, smiled, and steered left toward his room.

 

Their hearts beat as one, flying fast and strong as Draco closed the door behind him, strode across the distance to his large bed, and crawled on top of his beautiful girl.  They kissed deep and long, and they explored, fingers testing sensitive spots and hands finding confidence.  They moved slowly, removing clothing in no haste, cherishing every layer they revealed.  Draco’s mouth moved down her neck and around her collarbone, and Hermione gasped as he slowly made his way south, exploring areas she’d never dared touch.

 

It was October third when they made love, though it was nearing upon the fourth.

 

Lying on her back, trembling just slightly, Hermione sighed as Draco kissed her forehead, pulled her close, and whispered goodnight.

 

\--

 

He looked perfect in the morning.

 

It was early, only about six, and so the light shimmering through the curtains was moonlight still, though dawn was close.  Hermione sat up, shivering as the blankets fell around her waist.  She pulled one back up, smiling as she wrapped it around her bare skin.  It seemed unreal.  One month, one month was all it had taken.  With anyone else she’d ever dated, she hadn’t even _kissed_ them until a month had passed.  Draco had her weak at the knees and kissing against a train compartment wall before they were even dating.  One month, one month and she felt like she could never love again, could never leave him.  Was that wrong?

 

Draco stirred, and she looked down, smiling wide despite her worries.  He was _beautiful_ , a true masterpiece in terms of human beings.  His skin was flawless, save for a ghosting of adorable freckles here and there, and his muscles were gorgeously outlined even while he was still.  He lay on his stomach, and so she couldn’t observe his handsome features, but she loved the way the blankets fell into the dip of the small of his back and how they rose again with his small, boyish bottom.

 

Sighing, she turned her eyes away and delicately swung her legs out of the bed, adoring the feeling of silk beneath her.  It was the first night she’d spent with Draco, and it would be the start of many nights likewise.  She carefully pulled her red panties back on, snapping her matching bra on afterward, and she tiptoed across the soft rug to the window, drawing back the curtains a little.  The light was glorious, and she soaked in it for a moment until she heard the rustling of blankets.

 

When she turned back, Draco was staring at her, hand supporting his head while he kept his elbow bent.  He didn’t blink, didn’t smile, just merely watched.  When she moved away from the window, the moonlight hit him, and he closed his eyes, lips turning upward.  She walked back toward the bed slowly, leaning down and pecking him on the lips.  As she crossed to the other side, he rolled so that he could face her, following her every movement.  As she pulled the blankets back over her shoulders and smiled at him, he leaned forward to kiss her on the forehead.

 

“Are you okay?” he whispered, laying a hand on her cheek.

 

“I’m perfect with you,” she returned, scooting closer to him.

 

“Last night wasn’t a mistake?” he asked cautiously.

 

“Do you think it was?”

 

“Not at all.  I just worry about you,” he mumbled, pulling her against him.

 

“I wish you wouldn’t, because I thought last night was wonderful.”

 

“I’m glad I can make you happy.”

 

“You do, Draco.  You make me so happy.”

 

He just smiled, burying his face in her neck.

 

“Sleep.  We still have three hours until breakfast.  I love you.”

 

“I love you, too,” she breathed, letting her eyes slip shut and sliding her arms around him.


	6. Malevolent

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Blaise is a friend, Hermione's parents are in danger, and Lucius seeks revenge.

Breakfast was _silent_.  Defense Against the Dark Arts was tense.  Studying in the library afterward made Hermione want to scream.  She paced through the aisles, snatching up books as she went.  She grumbled under her breath, mutterings that were dark and angry.  She turned a corner, nose down, skillfully sidestepped someone, and continued on her way.

 

“Filthy, vial, ignorant, self-absorbed pigs?” someone repeated from behind her, and she careened to a halt.

 

“I certainly hope this isn’t a result from last night,” Blaise Zabini smirked as she turned, “Though, watching you almost hex Ronald across the room today might explain it.  Don’t worry,” he added, putting up a hand, “He didn’t tell anyone but me, the same way you’ll tell Ginny.  She’s dating Potter, right?  Pity.  She’s so beautiful.”

 

He stopped, allowing her to speak.  However, when she opened her mouth, tears flowed in her eyes.

 

“Hermione,” he cooed, quickly going to her, “It’ll be alright,” he promised, touching her cheek, “Please don’t cry, okay?  They’ll come around, assuming I’m on the right track.”

 

“You are,” she sighed, turning away, “Would you like to sit with me?”

 

He nodded, smiling warmly.  She told him all of her worries, and he gave her his best advice.  In turn, he confided in her about this girl that made his heart stop, that made him want to fall to his knees and recite beautiful things to her, this Emily.  They talked for almost three hours until Blaise’s stomach growled, and he escorted her to lunch.

 

“Just remember to be strong,” he whispered as they approached the Great Hall doors, “Everything will be okay, right?”

 

“Right,” she confirmed, nodding and smiling.

 

They entered together, something that she should’ve regretted had there been two watching eyes to scoff at her.  Except they weren’t there.

 

“Ginny,” Hermione hissed, sitting down across from her redheaded friend, “Where are they?”

 

When Ginny looked up, Hermione sucked a thin breath in, quickly composing herself and shoving every worry she had away.

 

“What’s wrong?” she asked after a few moments, watching Ginny shake her head and turn her puffy red eyes back down to her plate.

 

“I can’t tell you,” she mumbled, and Hermione could hear the tears in her voice, “Not here.  Just eat.  Slowly.  Act normal.”

 

Hermione did as told, and, after a few minutes, Ginny lifted her eyes again and took a deep breath.

 

“How was the library?” she asked, trying her hardest to look interested.

 

“I had a long conversation with Blaise,” Hermione began, watching her closely, “We exchanged advice and worries.  It was nice.”

 

Ginny nodded, managing a smile.

 

“Have you written home since you got here?” she continued.

 

“I haven’t.  I was thinking about—”

 

“Do it.  As soon as you’re done, write home.  Tell them you love them.”

 

And Ginny was getting up.

 

“Ginny!” Hermione exclaimed too loudly, trying to follow, but she was suddenly forced down by a spell.

 

“Eat slowly.  Act normal,” she repeated before disappearing.

 

She watched Ginny leave in shock.  She’d never before seen her so upset, so forceful.  She’d never before been forced back into her seat by _magic_.  She tried to reason in her brain, but nothing made sense.

 

“You’re Hermione Granger, right?” a voice interrupted her thoughts.

 

She nodded, looking up slowly.  A young girl stood there, nervous-looking.

 

“I was told to give this to you.”

 

She dropped a folded piece of paper in front of her as if it burned her skin and hurried away.  Hermione quickly lifted the paper into her hands, tore it open, and nearly screamed.

 

_My mother is at Mungo’s.  I have to go.  I don’t know if my father will be there, but if he is…  I love you.  I’ll try to find you again._

There was no signature, and the handwriting was rushed and frightened.  Hermione looked up, and was shocked to find Dumbledore hurrying down the steps where the staff table resided.

 

“You and I are about to be best friends,” Blaise’s familiar voice whispered in her ear before she was pulled up out of her seat and tugged away.

 

“Don’t look back,” he demanded, keeping her tight in his grasp with his arm tucked around her shoulders, “Just keep walking.”

 

“Miss Granger!” Dumbledore yelled as the Great Hall doors closed behind them.

 

“Don’t, Hermione,” he begged, continuing around the corner.

 

She didn’t protest as he led her through the halls, down corridors she didn’t recognize and around far too many corners.  He stopped her at one corner, walked across a wall three times, and then reached for her hand.  They entered the Room of Requirements where Hermione gasped.

 

“Ginny!” she shrieked, running forward to her friend.

 

“Let her go, Nott!” she screeched, pushing Theodore away, who surprisingly obliged.

 

“Ladies, we have a problem,” Blaise began, “Ginny, I apologize for capturing you, but there was no way you’d come willingly, especially after you threatened to stun us and drag us to Dumbledore’s office.  And no,” he began, pocketing his wand, “We are _not_ Death Eaters,” he finished, pulling up both of his sleeves.  Theodore reciprocated the movement, showing off his arms.

 

“However,” Blaise continued, “Draco is.  You know this, Hermione, though I doubt you’ve ever seen his mark.  And don’t even tell me you saw it last night because heavens know he charmed it and you didn’t look for it.  Would you like to explain to Ginny?” he paused, nodding once toward the redhead.

 

“We slept together,” she barely whispered, and Ginny just shook her head, crossed her arms, and turned away, “Gin, I can explain—”

 

“Save it, Hermione.  We’ll talk about it later.  Go on, Blaise.”

 

“Draco’s mother is _not_ at Mungo’s.  Theo was in Hogsmeade when Draco found out.  Poor bastard ran into our dear Theodore here on his way into the village, only had a moment to explain, and disapparated.  Because Draco can’t think _ever_ , Theo apparated to the Malfoy Manor, to the kitchen, only to shock Mrs. Malfoy.  Yes, she’s at her house.  Therefore, Lucius is at Mungo’s and Draco is in trouble.  Hermione,” he warned, putting up a hand and, suddenly, Theo’s wand was at her throat.

 

“Play nice,” he crooned, smirking.

 

She nodded, relaxing.

 

“Theo and I are going to apparate separately to the Manor and to Mungo’s.  As for Harry,” he stopped, turning to Ginny, “I know he’s looking for _something_ , something that Dumbledore put him up to, and I know it’s against the Dark Lord.  I won’t ask what or why, but I just need to know that he’s being wise.  I can’t have you in tears.”

 

She blinked, gaping at him.

 

“I don’t know who you think you are,” Ginny said tightly, shoving Theo’s arm down as he turned toward her, “But you will not speak to me in such a tone that Harry would.  _You_ are nothing in comparison to him.”

 

“I understand you’re angry.  I’ll ignore that for now.  Though my _tone_ was inappropriate, I also meant that you need to be strong so that Hermione doesn’t fall apart.  Look at her.  She needs you.  So.  I think the two of you should go find Dumbledore before he thinks I kidnapped and killed both of you, find out what’s going on, and, Hermione, I think you should go to wherever Harry and Ron are.  I don’t care if that means you have to fix things.  They’re your best friends.  They need you, and you need to be strong.”

 

“Why did you tell me to write to my parents?” Hermione said, disregarding Blaise and turning to Ginny.

 

“She can’t go to Harry and Ron,” Ginny mumbled, not meeting anyone’s eyes, “Because they’re protecting her house.  A message arrived last night that Voldemort had been spotted in her neighborhood.  After their first class, Dumbledore sent them off with very specific instructions.  He didn’t send them last night because of the danger of the situation.  However, this morning, McGonagall went, quickly, to inspect the area.  He wasn’t to be found, but they’re working on charming the house.  After they’re done, Voldemort will never know.  They’ll be speaking with her parents, as well, though, so that’s why they’re not back yet.”

 

Hermione’s world was suddenly dark.

 

\--

 

Blue eyes spun, no warmth left to bring life to them.  His body convulsed in pain, muscles tensed against the white hot agony that pulsed through him.  His fingers were clenched into fists, one tightly wrapped around his wand.  There were voices speaking over him, but he couldn’t make out any of the words.  A groan escaped his lips as someone touched him, and the soft fingers instantly recoiled.

 

“My mother,” he heard himself gasp, and someone was suddenly at his side.

 

“She’s inside, being healed.  She’s safe.”

 

“My father?” he asked, feeling coming back into his face and making it easier for him to speak.

 

“Stunned, at the Manor.  Theodore is busy charming the house.  You’re safe here.”

 

“Hermione,” the name finally fell from his lips, and he screamed in pain as he tried to open his eyes.

 

“Draco, be still,” the female voice cried, holding his shoulders, which only worsened the pain in his back.

 

“It’s Blaise,” a rough voice said from behind him, “Just lay there.  We’re going to levitate you.  We’re at the Tonks’.  Okay?”

 

He didn’t respond, didn’t know if he could.  He felt the ground leave him, and he liked it so much more in the air.

 

“Put him on his back on the table.  I’ll fix up his front first.”

 

He started to fade again as his Aunt Andromeda sighed and muttered a healing charm.

 

\--

 

When Draco awoke next, there were black silk sheets covering him.  He opened his eyes warily, wincing as a dull throb awoke near his left eye, and he reached up a long-fingered hand to touch his face.  A scar ran diagonal, jagged, and he instantly knew it was his father’s handiwork.

 

He sat up delicately, body tensing as his back moved.  He reached behind, and ghosted his fingers over the healed wounds.  _Whipped_ , by his father, no less.  He sighed, and decided he could walk.  He slowly got out of his bed, recognizing the familiar Heads’ dormitory, and he disregarded the idea of a shirt as he headed toward the door.

 

Blaise and Theo were relaxed on the couch and armchair, both fast asleep.  Ginny was bent over Blaise, tending to some wound that he couldn’t see from his doorway.  He leaned against the frame, noticing Hermione’s form, slouched against a desk, a map beneath her, her wand in her hand, and out cold.

 

“What happened?” he asked aloud, and Ginny didn’t immediately respond.

 

He watched her, how she capped a vial, stood, smoothed Blaise’s hair away from his forehead, and slowly turned.

 

“A lot of things.  Where would you like me to start?” she returned snappily.

 

“I deserve that,” he admitted, moving away from the doorframe and going down the stairs leading into the common room, “My mother wasn’t at Mungo’s.  I only remember very vague things after that.”

 

“It was a set-up.  Your father found out she’d been contacting you, just not how.  He forced your mother to write that letter of distress you got.  She’s fine now.  Andromeda fixed everyone all up, for the most part.  After you disapparated, Theo went to your house and found your mother, so he ran back to grab Hermione, Blaise, and me.  Hermione passed out, so she was useless, and, therefore, I had to stay behind to take care of her.  From what Blaise told me, it seems the two of them got to your house just in time.  They gave you enough distraction to apparate to Andromeda’s before they did, but they had to fight off your father a little.  From there, it’s pretty self-explanatory.  You were only there for a few hours.  It’s not even tomorrow yet.”

 

“Thank you,” he murmured after a moment of silence settled around them.

 

“What happened to you?”

 

Draco arched an eyebrow, frowning.

 

“The marks on your back, the scar on your face.  It won’t be permanent, Andromeda made sure of that, but, it’ll be nasty for a little while, at least.”

 

“I was… whipped,” he finished, looking away in shame, “Among other things.  My father is vicious, ruthless.  That’s why I was so worried about my mother.”

 

Ginny nodded, straightening and sighing.

 

“Get some rest,” Draco mumbled, nodding toward her, “You look exhausted.  I can look after them.”

 

“No, you can’t.  Not in that condition.  Go wake Hermione.  I’m assuming you two have been sleeping in the same bed, so I’ll just steal hers.”

 

“Ginny, about that—” he began, but she swiftly cut him off as she lifted her hand.

 

“Another time, Malfoy.”


	7. Forgiving

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Harry and Draco stare each other down, Ron hates everyone, and the chapter is entirely one scene.

Hogsmeade was so close that Hermione cringed at the thought.  It was Friday, and she was sitting next to Harry and Ron in Defense, both of whom were still ignoring her.  She sighed as they were dismissed, and the boys were quick to gather their things and disappear.  She ate lunch with them and Ginny, and the two girls talked quietly while the boys absentmindedly chattered back and forth.  It wasn’t crowded, thankfully, and so there was no one to their right or left for a few feet.

 

“Do you know Emily Johnson?” Ginny asked quietly.

 

When Hermione nodded, she went on, “She approached me today, talked my ear off all the way to Potions, and she was so nice, but _Slytherin_.  How do you know her?”

 

“Blaise likes her,” Hermione sighed, shrugging.

 

“Blaise,” Ginny said slowly, shaking her head.

 

“Yea, I know,” Hermione mumbled back, “Don’t worry.  I talked to him about it.”

 

“He’s cute, but I love Harry.”

 

“Obviously.  And, well, I think he’s pretty head over heels for this Emily girl.”

 

“We should all hang out.”

 

The thought, at first, dumbstruck Hermione.  She couldn’t grasp the concept of having friends, real friends that were girls, besides Ginny, and all hanging out.  All her life at Hogwarts, she’d been with Ron and Harry, and, now that they weren’t speaking to her, she was starting to see beyond them, starting to branch out.

 

“That actually sounds like a really good idea,” she responded, smiling, a genuine smile, “Sunday, after Hogsmeade?”

 

“Okay,” Ginny returned, seeming equally as jovial about the idea, “In the Heads’ common room, obviously, or we could go out and about.  It’s still nice enough out.”

 

“Where would we go, though?  We’re trapped with all the new security.”

 

“True, true.  Okay, well, you and I will come up with some ideas tonight that we can do for Sunday.  Yes, Ronald?”

 

“Uhm,” he started uncomfortably, careful not to meet Hermione’s gaze.

 

“Spit it out.  You didn’t kick me for nothing.”

 

Hermione watched as he inclined his head to the right, and Ginny sighed.

 

“Do it yourself.”

 

Ron glared at her hatefully before turning back to Harry and whispering something to him.

 

“I’m going to take their distraction as an opportunity,” Ginny mumbled, not turning her head, “How is he?”

 

Hermione’s heart fluttered faster as she lifted her eyes for the first time since they’d sat to look toward the Slytherin table.  He was leaning on his elbow, eyes half-closed.  Blaise and Theodore sat on either side of him, just to be wary of any oncoming people.  But she could see the pain flash in his eyes everytime he tried to move.

 

“I tried to convince him that we didn’t have to go this weekend, but he says he wants to go on a proper first date.  He can barely move without wincing, Ginny.”

 

Ginny nodded before looking back toward Ron, “What do you want?”

 

When he didn’t respond right away, Ginny sighed obnoxiously, “Oh, for heaven’s sake, Ronald, if you want to make amends with Hermione, just tell her to her goddamn face.  And yes, I’m going to talk about you like you’re not sitting right next to me,” she added, looking at her friend, “I’m leaving.  I have things to do, and you’re both annoying me.  Harry, can I talk to you later, please?”

 

After Harry had nodded, she got up and stalked away angrily.  Ron cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably.

 

It was Harry, however, who started, “I’m sorry, ‘Mione.”

 

She felt whole again suddenly, and her whole body warmed up as she smiled, “I’m so sorry, guys.  I should’ve told you everything sooner.  I was just so afraid of how you would react,” she paused, her smile fading, “Of how you’re going to react,” she added, looking down at her lap.

 

“Just tell us,” Ron blurted out, and she was surprised by his conviction.

 

They wanted to know.  They wanted to know everything, and that scared and delighted Hermione.  She took in a deep breath, closed her eyes, folded her hands, and began,

 

“Draco doesn’t want to be a Death Eater.  His father forced him into it.  Forced because you know how Voldemort is, you know that refusing means certain death.  His mother isn’t one, and it has always been her first and foremost priority to protect her family, especially Draco.  Apparently, and this is what you don’t know.  Please just listen and let me continue.”

 

They nodded, leaning closer as she dropped her voice more, “Apparently, he’s liked me for a long time now, liked as in admired, felt for, you get the gist.”

 

She didn’t look up as she talked, whispering furiously, but she knew what their expressions were like.

 

“His mother found out, if by pure accident or some other way, I don’t know, but she knew, and she never addressed him about it.  However, when his father found out, he went straight to Voldemort, and Narcissa forced him to leave the house.  She had him go to my house because she thought I would be able to find some amount of sympathy in me and let him stay.  For some reason, it was there.  He stayed at my house from mid-June to mid-August.  When I came to stay at the Burrow, he went to Andromeda Tonks’ house.  She and Narcissa are sisters along with Bellatrix Lestrange, though Narcissa and Andromeda have kept better friends, secretly, of course.  When we returned to here, Hogwarts, I refused to speak to him at first because—” she cut herself off, nearly choking on her words.

 

She wished Ginny was here, to comfort her, to squeeze her hand and tell her it would be alright.  Some other form of comfort, however, presented itself then.

 

“Hermione,” a voice whispered behind her, and she straightened, catching the boys’ expressions first.

 

Harry was stone cold, eyes narrowed, while Ron looked bewildered, eyes large.  They were both looking up to, on the surface, a completely indifferent, unemotional Draco Malfoy.  To Hermione, he looked ready to collapse.

 

“What?” she snapped, swallowing the lump in her throat.

 

“You can sit,” Harry said from behind her, shocking both of them into silence, “Maybe you can aid in this interesting story.”

 

Draco held a gaze with Harry, and Hermione and Ron watched in amazement as they assessed one another.  In the end, Harry looked away, sighing, and Draco sat delicately, wincing only once.

 

“How are you feeling?” Hermione asked quietly, looking over his sad, scarred face.

 

“It’s hard to breathe.  My ribs still hurt.”

 

“She did her best in healing them,” she said with a shrug before turning back to the boys.

 

She was about to continue when Draco’s fingers laced within hers, and she suddenly felt calm and okay, and so she continued, somewhat more at ease.

 

“Guys,” she started again, her heart quick, “We’re dating.”

 

The words were sharp, like ice.  She watched them hit her two best friends, and, while Harry barely moved, Ron’s ears turned bright red and he opened his mouth as if to yell, though Harry did something that forced him to just sit in horrible anger.

 

“Harry,” Ron hissed through gritted teeth, shaking his head wildly, “Don’t even tell me this is okay.  We talked about this.  What the _fuck_ , Hermione?”

 

He rounded on her, eyes furious.

 

“Ron, I’m so sorry,” she nearly sobbed, and Draco squeezed her hand, thumb caressing her skin, “I didn’t mean to hurt either of you.  It’s not what it seems.  _He’s_ not what he seems.  I learned so much over the summer, and you can’t even tell me this could be a trap.  No Death Eater in their right mind would _date_ or _love_ a… a… _Mudblood_ ,” she finally spat hatefully, “just to help Voldemort.”

 

Draco blanched at the name, and Hermione closed her eyes, holding back tears.

 

“Harry,” Ron continued, shoving his shoulder, “Say something.”

 

“What happened to you?” he asked Draco, nodding in his direction.

 

Draco started, blinking, and it was a moment before he could respond.

 

“My father forced my mother to write me a letter of distress saying she was at Mungo’s.  He tried to kill me, and only managed to maim me instead,” he laughed humorlessly.

 

“I want to see it,” Harry immediately came back, and Hermione suddenly understood what was going on.

 

“Not here.  He knows,” Draco added, nodding his head backward, and this seemed to loosen Harry immensely.

 

“How?”

 

“My mother.  They spoke over the summer frequently.  _He_ ,” he paused to make sure Harry understood, “is also bound to protect me.  They’re the only reason I’m here this year.  Otherwise, my father would have me gallivanting off with the Dark Lord.”

 

“You know you put Hermione in so much danger this summer, don’t you?  And now, with all of this, she’s such an easier target,” he said, shaking his head, “Oh, Ron, stop gaping.  Look, can we all go to your common room?  Talk about all this?  I’ll fill you in when we get there,” he added to a distraught Ron.

 

Hermione nodded, and they all got up, walking out together.  It was a sight that left many staring.  The walk to the common room was silent, mostly, though Ron continued to grumble under his breath about Draco and Hermione holding hands.  When they finally made their way to the couches and sat down, the whole story unfolded.

 

“Dumbledore told me, not too long ago, that you were to be trusted, that, while you’d been absolutely wretched in the past, a lot of things had changed in the past year or so.  I believed him only when Hermione told me about you staying for the summer.  I wasn’t allowed to tell you,” Harry added to Ron, “I know, you were allowed to know about _them_ , but this is different.  Have you slept together?”

 

The question was abrupt and asked for a reason.  Hermione turned red and looked away, giving them their answer.

 

“It’s okay, whatever,” Harry sighed, “I should’ve figured.  How long have you been dating?”

 

“Since the first Thursday we were here,” Draco responded immediately, surprising everyone, “Ginny, Blaise Zabini, and Theodore Nott know.  As do Dumbledore and McGonagall, I believe.”

 

“ _Ginny_ knows?” Ron squeaked, “For Merlin’s sake, were you _ever_ going to tell us?” he asked Hermione.

 

“When you finally spoke to me again.  Look, I get why you were angry, but that was a childishly long time to not speak to me, especially when all of _that_ was going on.”

 

“We know,” Harry stopped Ron from retaliating, “I think we should go.  There’s enough between us to mull over for a while.  Hogsmeade is tomorrow; are you going?” he turned to Hermione.

 

“With Draco, yes.”

 

“Okay.  Maybe we’ll see you around there.  Are you busy Sunday?”

 

“Uh, actually, yea,” she said nervously, rubbing the back of her neck, “Ginny and I were planning to hang out with this girl we know, Emily.”

 

“Blaise’s Emily?” Draco asked quietly, turning to her, “How do you know about Emily?”

 

“Blaise and I kind of are friends?” she ended unsurely, shrugging, “It just sort of happened, and he told me about Emily, and Ginny’s talked to her before, so we figured it would be fun to all hang out.”

 

“Emily’s nice.  You’ll like her,” he assured, nodding and allowing a small smile to appear.

 

“Maybe someday, we could all hang out, as a huge group,” Harry offered, though he couldn’t find a smile just yet.

 

“Yea, maybe.  That would be nice,” Hermione admitted, and she stood with the boys, “I’m just going to bid them goodnight, I’ll be right back,” she added to Draco before leaving up the steps with them.

 

They exited the portrait, and Harry sighed, leaning against the wall.

 

“That was a shit ton to drop on us,” he mumbled, looking over at his best friend and smiling.

 

“I know,” she groaned, covering her face, “I’m sorry.  It was the only way I could think to do it finally.  I’m just so glad you two are talking to me again.”

 

“He might be,” Ron huffed, shaking his head, “I can’t believe you.”

 

“Ron, look, I’m _sorry_ ,” she tried, “I know you’re upset, and I know why.  I get it, and I feel horrible, but,” she paused, sighing, “You know I only think of you as a friend.  I’m sorry.”

 

He just grimaced and looked away, folding his arms across his chest.

 

“We better go.  It’s almost past hours.  Goodnight, ‘Mione.”

 

Harry gave her a hug and a kiss on the cheek while Ron started walking off, and she returned his affections with a true smile, thankful that he, at least, had come around.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This whole chapter is ONE SCENE. This is crazy. I’ve never done something like that, haha.


	8. Before the Storm

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Narcissa visits, Hogsmeade is here, and new friends are made.

Narcissa knocked lightly on the wooden door, waiting patiently until it opened and revealed none other than Severus Snape.

 

“Mrs. Malfoy,” he greeted, bowing slightly and ushering her in, “I wasn’t expecting you to be here, too.”

 

“Narcissa asked to meet, actually,” Dumbledore said from his desk, smiling over half-moons at her, “I trust you are well, Mrs. Malfoy?”

 

“Barely.  I cannot stay long.  My absence as is will seem suspicious to Lucius.  I thought my presence might be necessary, however, in order for this to show the gravity,” she ended with a small glare in the direction of Snape, and he turned his eyes downward, understanding, “From your cryptic letter, I gathered only one thing, and that is a truce,” she continued to Dumbledore.

 

“More, I believe,” he said with a small beam, “They appear to have fallen for one another.  Whether or not Harry and Ron know yet is beyond me, though I’m almost positive that Miss Ginny Weasley, Mister Blaise Zabini, and Mister Theodore Nott are aware.”

 

“Ginny,” Narcissa said the name slowly, “She was the one my dreadful husband gave Tom’s diary to, right?”

 

“Quite, Mrs. Malfoy.  She’s friends with Hermione.”

 

“And you’re still watching after him, Severus?” she turned her eyes to Snape curiously.

 

“Of course, Narcissa.  His continuing presence here at Hogwarts remains unknown to the Dark Lord.  As far as he’s concerned, Draco is off training as he should be.”

 

“And the protection on Hermione and her friends?” Narcissa asked Dumbledore.

 

“For Miss Granger and Miss Weasley, I can say that they are protected to the utmost while they are in this castle.  For Harry and Ron, however, I cannot always say the same.  Mrs. Malfoy,” he stopped her as she went to argue, “That is necessary.  I trust you would like to see your son, to let him know that you are, in fact, alright.”

 

“I would love that,” she admitted, smiling, “I visited my sister recently, and she told me how horrible things had gotten.  Severus, can I ask you to escort me?”

 

“Of course.  Professor,” he acknowledged Dumbledore before leading Narcissa out of the room.

 

They exited the office and the gargoyle was just closing behind them when a familiar voice caught Narcissa’s attention.

 

“As a group, yes,” the voice was saying, and she stopped, heart thudding in her chest as she watched Draco round the corner with Theodore and Blaise on either side of him, “I think he’s going absolutely loony, personally, but maybe it’ll be a good chance to really solidify everything.”

 

“It’s definitely worth the—”

 

“Mrs. Malfoy!” Theodore interrupted Blaise.

 

Draco looked up, locking eyes with his mother for the briefest second before she smiled widely and he hurried over, embracing her tightly.

 

“How are you here?” he asked once they’d released one another, “What about dad?”

 

“He doesn’t know I’m here, so I have limited time, but I wanted to visited with the Headmaster and be assured that you were being taken care of.  How are you?”

 

“The pain has lessened, thankfully.”

 

“I’ve managed to convince your father that your romance with Hermione is entirely untrue, and I also found that the Dark Lord has been threatening him more directly and regularly lately, which explains his wretched behavior.  We’re still sorting things out, but I can assure you something like _this_ will not happen again,” she said, gesturing to the scar on his face.

 

“Be careful, please.  Have you spoken to Aunt Andromeda recently?”

 

“I have.  I see her frequently, actually.  You are always welcome there if you need somewhere to go, sweetie.  Don’t forget that.  I mustn’t linger any longer, though.  Your father will be suspicious.  Please take care of yourself.”

 

They hugged once more, and Narcissa kissed him on the forehead before she disappeared off with Snape.

 

The three Slytherin boys went along their way again, and, when they arrived in the Heads’ house, Harry, Ron, Ginny, and Lavender Brown were already there.  Hermione was just exiting her room when they came in, and Draco smirked despite his best efforts not to.  They’d decided, as a couple, to just shock Hogwarts instead of breaching them with their relationship delicately.  And so, seeing Lavender gasp at his presence only made the shock better to watch unfold.

 

He carefully descended the grand staircase, his eyes locked to Hermione’s as he did.  She smiled up at him, and they met at the foot of the staircase.

 

“Hey,” he whispered, leaning forward to kiss her softly, “How was your morning?”

 

“Lovely,” she responded, going to kiss him again, “What’s put you in such a good mood?”

 

“Other than seeing my beautiful girlfriend, my mother visited this morning.”

 

“How is she?” Hermione exclaimed, completely ignoring the compliment.

 

Draco laughed, a joyous sound, “She’s fine.  Dealing with my father, but otherwise well.  Are we all almost ready to go?”

 

“If Lavender ever picks her jaw up, we will be.  I just have to grab my jacket.”

 

“One more thing,” he quickly added, and she smiled as he kissed her again, “Okay, that’s all.”

 

Their happiness was infective, and, soon, everyone was in high spirits.  They all gathered together, and, when they exited the house, two Slytherin girls were awaiting them.

 

“Ginny!” a raven-haired girl exclaimed, and Ginny surprisingly accepted her hug.

 

“And you must be the infamous Hermione Granger,” she continued, releasing Ginny, “Draco never stops talking about you.  I’m Emily Johnson.”

 

Hermione smiled, recognizing her instantly now that she knew who she was.  She had adorable black ringlet curls that fell in angles to her chin and shimmering blue eyes.  Her friend was blonde with the same length hair but straightened and with green eyes.

 

“This is my twin sister, Hilary.”

 

“Nice to meet both of you,” Hermione responded, smiling widely, “These are my two best friends, Harry and Ron.”

 

“I’m Lavender,” Lavender was quick to introduce, smiling around Ron and the group.

 

Emily just nodded at her, not smiling, and, without much more delay, they were all off toward the carriages outside.  Hogsmeade wasn’t too uneventful.  Ron and Lavender were quick to abandon everyone, which the group didn’t particularly dislike as they’d been shooting the Slytherins and Hermione dirty looks throughout the carriage ride.  And so they spent the day in Hogsmeade together, creating all sorts of gossip and stares.

 

When they finally settled into the Three Broomsticks near six that night, they were all chilled from the cold near-December air and in desperate need of a good, hot drink.  They quickly ordered food and drinks before continuing their nonstop conversation.  It ended fairly quickly, leaving the separate couples to talk.

 

“It’s all going so well,” Hermione whispered with the biggest beam, squeezing Draco’s hand affectionately.

 

“I’m happy, especially because you are,” he returned, leaning forward to kiss her passionately, “Thank you for giving me a shot.”

 

“Hey, I’m glad I did,” she instantly berated, kissing him once more before leaning back and observing her friends.

 

Harry had his arm wrapped around Ginny’s shoulders, and they looked so comfortable and in love.  They’d started dating right at the end of Harry’s sixth year, in April, and they’d gone strong all summer.  Harry was mostly living at the Burrow that summer, though he spent quite a bit of his time at Grimmauld, fixing it up and making it his own, though Hermione couldn’t quite imagine them living there together.

 

Emily and Hilary were positively hilarious.  They reminded her very much of the Weasley twins, and she sometimes was shocked that they never were friends with them.  They did everything together, and were always finishing each other’s sentences, arguing playfully, and telling stories of all the trouble they’d gotten into.  They were essentially the Slytherin females of the Weasley twins, though they were a bit more mature about it, and so none of them really were affected by it or thought it unnecessary.

 

It was also quite easy for Hermione to see herself hanging out with them and Ginny on a regular basis and actually growing into the social aspect of being around girls that she’d always neglected by constantly being by Harry and Ron’s side.  _Ron_.  The thought was on both Hermione and Harry’s mind much of the time, wondering where their friend had gone off to and why he was so uptight when he had Lavender basically drooling over him.

 

“Hey, where are Theo and Blaise today?” the thought came to Hermione suddenly.

 

Emily’s expression turned sour at the mention, and Hermione frowned, arching an eyebrow.

 

“Did something happen between you two?”

 

“Hermione,” Draco whispered, touching her leg, and she looked over at him, overwhelmed by the anger emanating off of him.

 

She instantly dropped the subject and instead motioned to Rosemerta bringing their food.  They ate in a stiff silence for a few minutes until Hilary broke it, making a jab at Draco.

 

“So, girls, I was thinking maybe we should do a girls night tonight,” Ginny offered up halfway through the meal, smiling.

 

“That sounds awesome!” the twins exclaimed at the same time, swapping excited looks, “Where would we hold it, though?”

 

“In the Heads house,” Hermione said, shrugging, “You don’t mind, right?”

 

“No, I’ve actually got some things to take care of tonight,” Draco returned with a forced smile.

 

Hermione stowed the fake look into the back of her mind for later questioning and instead went on to talk with the girls about what they could do.

 

It turned out to be something she’d once seen in a Muggle movie where the girls all did each other’s hair, told stories, discussed the current gossip, and sipped hot chocolate in front of the grand fireplace.  They talked about Draco and eventually managed to pry out of Hermione if he was a good kisser, had they done “it” yet, did she think they’d last, and all sorts of questions that made her blush.  When Blaise came as a brief mention, Emily sighed and shrugged.

 

“I’m sure Draco will let you know, and though I’ve been asked not to say anything, I don’t think it’ll matter with the four of us.  His father pulled him out this weekend to mark him.”

 

The ensuing gasps made Emily look down, eyes glassy, “His mother is going to try to talk him out of it, but he still had to go.  He won’t be back until Tuesday or Wednesday, and I know I really don’t have a right or reason to be upset, but, I mean, Blaise has been my friend since before Hogwarts, and it’s just really hard to see him go through this.”

 

“You totally love him, don’t you?” Ginny observed, and Hermione smiled; she always knew.

 

“I totally do, yea,” Emily laughed, looking up, “How can you tell?”

 

“Just the way you talk about him.  It’s how I used to feel about Harry.  The first time Dumbledore made him look for—”

 

“Hilary, do you have a boyfriend?” Hermione interrupted so fast and so loud, Ginny just stared, dumbfounded.

 

There was a silence until Ginny’s ears suddenly flamed red, and she looked down, cursing under her breath.  Hermione persisted, looking steadily at the blonde until she answered.

 

“I d-don’t,” she stuttered, confused, “But I was dating someone at the beginning of the year, only for a month or so, nothing special,” she regained herself, and, thankfully, the subject of the Horcruxes was not breached again.

 

When Ginny and Hermione finally bid Emily and Hilary good night, it was nearing midnight, and Draco still had not returned.

 

“I’m sorry,” Ginny immediately apologized when the portrait hole closed, “I wasn’t even thinking.”

 

“I know.  It’s okay.  We just have to be more careful.  I know they’re our friends and, trust me, I would tell Draco in a heartbeat if I could, just so that maybe he could help or think of something, but you know we can’t.  It’s too dangerous.”

 

“I know,” Ginny said, nodding, “I’m gonna head out, too, though.  I promised _Ronald_ I’d talk to him tonight.”

 

“Give him my best, if he’ll accept it,” Hermione said with a shrug just as the portrait was opening again.

 

“Ginny,” Draco acknowledged, and she just smiled.

 

“I’ll see you tomorrow for breakfast, ‘Mione.”

 

They hugged as a parting, and Hermione turned to Draco, eyes erupting in emotion as she looked over his face.  Something was wrong.


	9. Destruction

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Hermione is lustful, Ron is furious, and Harry and Draco are almost friends.

Draco tore his eyes away from her after a few minutes, sighed, and went downstairs.  He fixed himself a mug of hot chocolate and stood by the window sipping it.

 

“I went to see Theo, to see if he knew anything, to see if he knew how Blaise was,” he began after a few minutes, not moving otherwise, “I got only bad news, and not just about Blaise.”

 

Hermione went to sit on the couch, allowing him to continue comfortably.  Still, he didn’t budge from his position by the window, and she frowned, eyebrows knitting together.  She didn’t like seeing him like this, a state of discontent so deep that she didn’t know how to bring him out of it.

 

“Blaise’s mother managed to convince his father that he shouldn’t be a Death Eater this morning.  He’s been there since late last night.  They were up arguing all night.  So, things were okay until the Dark Lord paid them a visit Saturday night.  Blaise apparated to my house on instinct, but now he won’t be able to get back to Hogwarts safely.  My _father_ ,” he nearly spat the word, “has apparently turned a new leaf.  My mother and him have been fighting nearly every second they’re together, and, though that has put a strain on them, it’s making things better at the same time, so Blaise is going to remain there for the time being.  Theo and I were trying to figure out a way to get Blaise back here, and we’ve only come up with a few options, though the most logical is just to wait it out until winter break comes, and then he can take the train back.”

 

“You said it wasn’t just about Blaise,” Hermione said as he stopped talking and stood in silence for a few minutes.

 

He turned, and his eyes settled on hers, and she saw how upset he was for the first time.  He looked positively miserable and _in pain_.

 

“What’s wrong?” she demanded, getting up and going over to him, “Talk to me.”

  
“Let me make love to you,” he begged, drawing her close and breathing her in, “ _Please_.”

 

Hermione didn’t even think twice.

 

\--

 

Sunday came unexpectedly.

 

Draco awoke early, stretching and leaning away from Hermione’s soft body.  He looked down at his beautiful girl, smiling as she turned a little, searching for him unconsciously.  He loved when she did that, even though she was clearly asleep, how she still looked for him, still wanted him right there next to her.

 

His smiled turned as his eyes darkened, and he let his hand drift the curves of her body, smiling wider when she breathed inward, awakening to his touch.

 

“Draco,” she breathed, and he suddenly wanted her, all of her.

 

She turned into him, and he brought his lips crashing down on hers.  She responded to him slowly at first, still waking, but then she was alive and kissing back heatedly.

 

“Draco,” she said again, pulling him closer, “Yes.”

 

He needed no other confirmation as his fingers dipped beneath the blankets, and she arched her back, gasping.  He loved to bring out this side of Hermione, to watch her in an aura she never truly indulged herself in, to find the lust-ridden woman inside of her.

 

They spent Sunday morning tangled roughly under the cover of his sheets, and Draco slowly peeled back layers of Hermione, discovering newer depths of her want and passion.  He relished in every one, begged for more and more until she was spent, lying on her back, arms spread, and gasping.

 

“I’m going to shower.  Join me?” he whispered seductively as nine o’clock was approaching; they’d been awake since seven.

 

“In a few minutes,” she promised, leaning up into his waiting kiss and nearly pulling him back into bed.

 

“Hermione,” he moaned, resting a hand on her cheek, “I have to shower, or we’ll be late for meeting everyone for breakfast.”

 

Even as he said it, he knew he wanted nothing more than to crawl back in bed with her and watch her writhe about and moan his name.  She kissed him longingly, drawing him closer and closer until—

 

“No,” he said firmly, breaking away, “I’ll be back.”

 

He left her smiling in his bed, blankets drawn up around her to shield against the cold.  She loved it here, wrapped in his warmth and the comfort of _him_.  That reminded her of winter break, something she’d been steadily ignoring, but it was only a few weeks away, and she was wary of what would happen to them.

 

Sighing, she pulled herself out of bed, grabbed his shirt from last night, draped it around her, and exited his room cautiously.  She still wasn’t used to the idea that this was her own house, shared with the love of her life, and she could go and come as she pleased however she pleased, dressed or not.  Still, she hurried across the distance from Draco’s room to the bathroom, happy when the door closed behind her.

 

His shower took an hour, _at least_ , due to their continuous want to explore each other.  When they finally emerged, the bathroom was covered in steam and Hermione was giggling happily.  It never occurred to her that Ginny would come looking for her, Harry and Ron in tow, that they knew the password and could easily walk in.  So, when she exited the bathroom in nothing but a towel, she almost ran right back in at the sight of her three best friends relaxing in the common room.

 

“Oh, Hermione!” Harry was the first to see her, and then his eyes went wide, “Uh, sorry,” he muttered, starting to stand.

 

“Just,” she stopped, brain working fast, “Stay there,” she finished before grabbing Draco’s hand and pulling him across the room.

 

They separated at the stairs, Hermione’s heart _pounding_ as she slammed her door and fell against it.

 

They all knew.  They’d seen them exit together, they _knew_.

 

“They already knew,” she tried to convince herself, “Yea, but they never _saw_.”

 

She felt mortified, like she could never leave her room again.

 

But she had to, and so Hermione went to dress, slipping into tight light blue jeans and a red vneck sweater.  She donned a thin black scarf, pinned back some of her hair, tugged on her shoes, and grabbed her black peacoat before leaving her room.  Draco wasn’t to be found, but Ginny and Ron were arguing angrily, though quietly, at the foot of the grand stairs.

 

Hermione cleared her throat, not wanting to be caught eavesdropping, but they continued anyway.

 

“I don’t _care_ what you think, Ron!  She’s happy, so let her be!” Ginny hissed.

 

“She’s just going to get hurt,” he was adamant and calm, which was only fueling his sister’s anger, “He’s nothing but trouble, Gin.  He’ll tear her apart and break her heart.  And I won’t be like Harry; I won’t let her come crying to me.”

 

“How can you be so horrible?” Ginny’s voice was starting to rise, “She’s your best friend.  It doesn’t matter if you’re in _love_ with her, Ron!  And what about Lavender?  You can’t keep ignoring her like you have been!  And don’t even start about yesterday!  That was so fake!”

 

“ _Fake_?”

 

Now he was yelling.

 

“Hey guys,” Hermione tried loudly, waving at them.

 

Neither budged, and Ginny picked right back up.

 

“Yes, _fake_!” she shrieked, “Just because you fucked her doesn’t mean it’s real, _Ronald_!  Even Lavender deserves better than this!  You’re using her to make Hermione jealous, and it’s not going to work because she loves Draco, and I’m pretty sure you’re only turning her farther against you!”

 

“You don’t know that!” he shouted back, pointing a shaking finger at her.

 

Draco’s door opened, but he froze as Ginny screamed back.

 

“I _do_ know that!  She wants nothing to do with you, and neither do I!  Stop filling Harry’s head with all of your rotten and vicious comments!  Oh?  Oh, you didn’t think he told me?  Well, _guess what_ , Ron, of course he does!  He’s Hermione friend, too, in case you forgot, and he doesn’t really think highly of you as of late, and neither do I!  You’re nothing but a goddamn prick, Ron!  You’re just hurting everyone, including yourself!”

 

“Harry is my best friend,” Ron growled, and Hermione gaped as he grabbed Ginny’s arm, “And nothing you can say or do will tear us apart.  He was my friend long before he was your—”

 

“Enough.”

 

The voice certainly wasn’t Hermione’s, and she quickly looked up at Draco, though she knew his velvety voice all too well to know it wasn’t him.  But the voice, Harry’s, cut through Ron like a dagger.  He stopped instantly, his words choked off into bitter air.  When he turned, to everyone’s surprise, Harry’s wand was directed straight at his head.

 

“Let her go,” he ordered, keeping his eyes steadily on Ron, and Hermione was suddenly reminded why Dumbledore put so much faith in him; he was terrifying if he wanted to be, and he could gain control so quickly.

 

“Ron, I swear to God,” he started, and his pace was quick as he crossed the room.

 

Ron let go of Ginny just in time for Harry took him by the shoulder and shoved him away.

 

“Touch her again and I’ll never speak to you again.”

 

“You’re going to choose my _sister_ over your best friend?” he shrieked incredulously.

 

“Ron, I’m not choosing, but you _will not_ touch her like that again,” Harry explained calmly, “Not only is it uncalled for, you have absolutely no reason for doing so.  Now, can we please go to breakfast without anymore incident?”

 

Ginny took the lead, shooting Hermione one look that she understood immediately.  She followed Ginny out of the common room, Draco taking up the rear.  It was a few minutes before Harry and Ron exited, but Ron was placated, if only temporarily.

 

It was the last Sunday of the month, meaning that there was a Quidditch game, and it struck Hermione suddenly that she had no idea who was playing.

 

“Gryffindor versus Ravenclaw,” Harry said, shrugging, “It’ll be easy.  We’ve beat them twice already.  Beating them today means they’ve got no chance in playing in the finals, though.  I’m thinking it’ll be Hufflepuff this year.  No offense, Draco.”

 

Draco.  The name resonated in the air around them, and Hermione could barely hide her smile.  Slowly but surely, Harry was accepting Draco into his life, as her boyfriend and, maybe, someday, as his friend.  It warmed her heart so much that she barely caught the response.

 

“Hey, I wouldn’t count us out just yet.  I’ll be back next game,” he joked, smirking.

 

“Like you could outrace me,” Harry taunted right back, and Ron was obscenely aware of the exchange with wide eyes and an open mouth.

 

“I’ll take that as a challenge,” Draco returned, and Harry just nodded.

 

Almost friends.  Almost.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is short. I’m sorry, :/ I definitely didn’t want it to be this short, but I want to keep the next scenes in a separate chapter, so it’ll have to stay that way, unfortunately.
> 
> But I hope you still enjoyed, and don’t forget to review, :D It honestly makes my day to see them!


	10. Beauty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the Yule Ball is approaching quickly, Hermione makes even more friends, and everyone has the perfect dress.

December spelled out only one thing in the minds of those fourteen and up: Yule Ball.

 

It had become an annual event ever since its success their fourth year, and so it was tradition for the three of them to go.  Harry and Hermione had gone their fifth year, much to Ron’s displeasure, and, though he didn’t voice his anger until _after_ the ball, when he did, it caused quite the row between the two boys, one in which Hermione couldn’t understand because they kept it entirely to themselves.  Their sixth year, Harry took Ginny, also to Ron’s displeasure, though that meant he was able to ask Hermione.  If Harry taking her their fifth year and now him taking his sister hadn’t upset him enough, the fact that she had already been asked and was going with some Hufflepuff they didn’t even know made him livid.  This year didn’t look any more promising.

 

However, the idea of dress shopping certainly appealed to Ginny a great deal more this year than it had in any past years.  The ball itself was scheduled to be three days before they left for winter break, which was only two and a half weeks away.  It was the Thursday after the Hogsmeade trip, and a flock of girls was crowded around the corkboard in the Gryffindor common room.

 

She waved hello to one of the girls she roomed with, Leila Marshall, going to sit next to her at one of the couches by the window.

 

“What’s going on?” she asked, nodding toward the gaggle of giggling girls.

 

“Not sure,” Leila laughed, “I haven’t been able to get close enough to look.  I’m waiting for it to die down.”

 

They still had a half hour before class, and surely people would start hurrying away before long.  It only took Ginny ten minutes to get to class, and, even then, she was usually early, but she didn’t want to risk being late just to see a notice.

 

“Seamus!” Leila exclaimed happily, bringing her out of her reverie, and she smiled.

 

Leila and Seamus were easily one of the cutest and strongest couples Ginny had ever seen, and she was always happy to see them together.

 

“I’ve got to run down and grab some quick breakfast, babe, considering I missed dinner last night,” he said as he leaned down to kiss her, “I’ll see you at lunch?”

 

“Absolutely.  I love you,” she reminded, beaming up at him.

 

“I love you, too, sweetie.  Bye, Gin!”

 

She waved as Seamus hurried off, looking over as a few girls left the corkboard.

 

“C’mon,” she mumbled, pulling Leila up and dragging her over.

 

Leila was definitely gorgeous, and anytime she moved, she caught a few eyes trailing her.  She had brown banana curls that fell to her waist, complimented by very natural blonde and red highlights.  She had the sharpest green eyes, and she never seemed to tan, instead remaining a flawless and beautiful porcelain color.

 

“A special Hogsmeade trip for girls for the Yule Ball,” Leila laughed, “And boys can go if they need dress robes, though they will be harshly refused entrance to any dress shop.  That’s insane.  Are you going?”

 

“I’ll have to check with Hermione, but probably.”

 

“Is she going with Draco?” Leila asked as they went back to grab their bags and head out; they had first period with one another.

 

“I assume so.  We’ll probably all go as a group with these two girls we know from Slytherin, too.”

 

“Who?”

 

“Emily and Hilary Johnson.  Do you know them?”

 

“Hilary, yea.  She’s fantastic.  Mind if Seamus and I tag along?”

 

“’Course not!” Ginny exclaimed, smiling; it would be good to hang out with some of _her_ friends for once.

 

This same pattern continued throughout the day.  As they sat for lunch, Luna instantly spotted Leila and rushed over, already going on about her dress ideas.  And so then Luna was going with them.  The two had been friends since Leila’s first year with Ginny, and they were nearly inseparable.  Even Seamus and Neville could frequently be seen together now seeing as the four of them hung out together as much as possible.

 

When Hermione found them at lunch, Ginny instantly proposed the idea of a group going to the ball, and she nodded, only mildly excited at first, but was soon joining in on conversations about dresses and how the night would go and how excited she was.

 

And so for the next two days, all the girls could focus on was the trip that Saturday to Hogsmeade, a special trip hosted before every ball.  They all made plans to go shopping together and, when Saturday finally came, Hermione, Ginny, Leila, Luna, Emily, and Hilary met outside the Heads house and prepared for their outing.  Draco was staying behind as he already had dress robes, but Ron was going with Harry to get new ones.

 

He’d borrowed George’s last year and the year before, though, after nearly (and accidentally) burning them to pieces the day after, all his brothers had steadfastly ignored his pleas for another borrow.  And so, Molly dug up some money, told him to pay half, and he was off to get his own finally.

 

The girls caught lunch first before heading off to one of the less-visited but still relatively excellent dress shops, and they spent four hours mulling around, pairing off, and ultimately deciding on jaw-dropping dresses for each of their own reasons.

 

However, the ball was still two weeks away, and mid-year exams were creeping up, which meant, for Hermione, she finally had to confront her fears about the winter break.  She was lying wrapped in Draco’s arms when she finally got the courage to ask.

 

“Draco,” she began, whispering, afraid, heart thumping too loud and too fast and _way too hard_ , “Where are you going for Christmas?”

 

It took him a while to answer, and, when he did, she hadn’t entirely expected it.

 

“I might be spending it here or with my Aunt Andromeda.  I’m not really sure.”

 

She’d expected that he _maybe_ would stay at Hogwarts, but his parents’ house not even being a choice?  That she was shocked by.

 

“You don’t want to stay with your mom?” she inquired, surprise evident in her voice.

 

“I… can’t,” he finally finished, sighing and rolling away from her.

 

He remained on his back and she on her side, though his arms weren’t around her now, and she felt abandoned, alone as he stared up at the ceiling.

 

“If I go home, he’ll find me.”

 

She knew exactly who he was talking about when a thought came to her.

 

“Stay with me.”

 

“Like… at your house?” he inquired slowly.

 

“Please,” she begged, moving to hover over him, “I’ll write my parents, ask.  But please will you say yes?”

 

“Let me think about it,” he compromised, and she was silenced with a kiss.

 

The next surprise came a week later when Hermione was sitting for her Potions final, and the door opened to a late student.  She looked back, always the curious one, and her heart nearly stopped.

 

Blaise walked in, head bent down, and went to sit with Draco who instantly started demanding answers.  She was barred from speaking with Draco for the rest of the day as he kept a close radius to his friend, though nighttime finally brought her curiosity to a close.

 

“Dumbledore went and got him,” Draco said as he pulled off his shirt.

 

Hermione was already in bed, dressed in one of his t-shirts and her panties, and she frowned as he turned away.

 

“How did he know what was going on?” she asked.

 

“I’m not sure, but he did, and, well, he went and got him.  So now Blaise is back here, and he’ll probably stay here for Christmas.  I might stay with him, though I’m not sure.”

 

When he turned back, pants gone and only in a pair of boxers, Hermione wasn’t looking at him.

 

“Baby,” he cooed, going to her, “I know you want me to stay with you, but I can’t just abandon him.  He’s my best friend.”

 

“Then why don’t you both go to Andromeda’s?”

 

“I can’t,” he sighed, climbing under the covers, “She said that it would be endangering whatever army you guys have got going, and so she can’t allow anyone associated with the Dark Lord to be near her house anymore.”

 

Hermione nodded.  That made sense, but she couldn’t spend Christmas away from him.  She had to find a way around this.  But Draco was already pulling her close and dozing off.  Her brainstorming would have to wait.

 

\--

 

It was the night of the ball, and Draco had already left to get ready in the Slytherin house with Blaise and Theo while the large group of girls had gathered in the Heads house to pretty up.  The twins were the first ready, and Hermione paused in doing Ginny’s hair so that they could admire them.

 

Emily’s short black hair was curled into its tiny ringlets and pinned up out of her face.  Her strapless dress was rose red with a white lace sash that ran around her ribcage.  It had a high hem in the front, one that fell in layers and ripples to her mid-thigh, one that lengthened in a long hem behind her, cascading down like a gorgeous waterfall.

 

Her sister complimented her in an equally prominent silk green with a slit that ran up her left leg, nearly gracing the top of her thigh.  It fell in waves from her waist, though it hugged her curves upward.  It was supported by an exquisite silver piece.  It ran between her breasts and extended outward, creating straps on either shoulder; it continued down her back, becoming one again, and acting as a spine to the split material of the dress at the back.  Her hair was straightened and hung in jagged angles around her face.

 

“Wow,” Leila said as she exited the bathroom, fully dressed, “You two look hot.”

 

The girls laughed before their eyes turned to the shimmering brunette.  She was donned in yellow, though it suited it perfectly.  It fell in a mermaid fashion, though the top was crisscrossed with thick strands of gold and silver sequins.  It hugged her frame attractively before falling in many layers of yellow chiffon.  Her brown hair tumbled down around her, matching that of her best friend.

 

Luna’s curly blonde hair was beautiful, and it was nearly as long as Leila’s.  Her dress was green and purple, and it screamed Luna to the utmost.  It was in the same mermaid fashion as her friend’s, though it also carried the idea of the high low hem.  The green was a light olive complimented by purple chiffon flowers and sections of dark purple sequins on the bust.  The hemmed bottom was first a layer of the same green overcome by a layer of purple.

 

It was another hour or so before everyone was finally finished and ready for the night.  Ginny looked the picture of beauty in her silver gray dress, strapless and mermaid.  The back was done up in a corset style, and it was low, beginning only at her mid-back.  The top was fitted, though it wrapped down her in layers, ending in an assortment of silver roses on her left hip where the dress flared in layers of a silver mermaid bottom.  Her long red hair fell in curls over her right shoulder, pinned over to the side so only a few strands graced her left shoulder.

 

And Hermione, with her brown curls teased and accentuated, was wearing a low strapless light aqua dress with chiffon material falling all around her, leaving every mystery only a touch away but still hidden.  The back was even lower than Ginny’s, and the bust was adorned with silver and aqua jewels.

 

Together, the six girls were flawless and mesmerizing.  They left the Heads’ house together, fifteen minutes before the ball was due to begin, and they met with Lavender and a few of her friends in the small gathering outside of the Great Hall.  Lavender was in fuchsia, which made the girls laugh just a little.  It was a simple, strapless dress with a sweetheart top and a crisscrossing sash of a shiny, darker fuchsia wrapped around her ribcage.

 

The boys arrived not far behind.  They all paired away, Hermione with Draco, Ginny with Harry, Lavender with Ron, Emily with Blaise, Hilary with Theodore, Leila with Seamus, and Luna with Neville, and spent their own time ogling over one another before the Great Hall doors slowly opened, and the night of a lifetime began.


	11. Convincing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Draco goes home with Hermione, Hermione explains in tears, and Draco is stupid.

“Mum.  Dad.  This is Draco.”

 

Everything was quiet for a moment, and Hermione held her breath, fear making her limbs tremble.  Draco had his fingers wrapped around hers, squeezing tightly.  He wanted so badly for them to accept him.

 

“Draco?” her mum was the first to respond, slowly and in confusion.

 

“Draco Malfoy,” Hermione continued, “He’s from Slytherin.”

 

Though they were Muggles, they understood who this boy was.

 

“Hermione, dear, I’m not quite sure what you mean.  Granted, we got your letter, but we didn’t really think it true.  I mean no offense to you, Draco.”

 

He just nodded and smiled, horrified that this was going so poorly already.

 

“Draco and I are dating,” Hermione began, blinking unsurely, “I know it doesn’t make a lot of sense, but—”

 

She cut herself off, sighing.  Thankfully, her dad came to the rescue.

 

“I’m sure they can explain once we get them settled in, Jean.”

 

Her mum nodded apprehensively before motioning toward the car.

 

“C’mon,” Hermione whispered, squeezing Draco’s hand one last time before pulling him off.

 

He looked strangely at the foreign thing in front of him, and Hermione almost laughed.

 

“It’s a car.  Uh, Muggles drive it.  It’s kind of like a broomstick.  It’s a means of transportation, like apparation.”

 

“Okay…” he said slowly, “What do you do with it?”

 

“Here,” she said, opening the door, “Sit down inside, put that strap around you, and buckle it in.  I’ll be right back.”

 

Draco’s eyes went wide as she left him to help put everything away, and so he was left to get in the car, cautious and afraid.  Hermione was back in a few minutes, sliding in next to him.  Her parents got in up front, and, soon, they were driving off.  It didn’t take more than a half hour to reach Hermione’s house, and Draco smiled as they pulled into the driveway.

 

“I know it’s not the Malfoy Manor or anything,” she prefaced, “But it’s home to me.”

 

“It’s very you.  I like it,” he complimented, smiling over at her.

 

Together, they unloaded the car and moved their stuff into the house.  Hermione was just beginning up the stairs when her mum stopped them.

 

“Uh, Hermione, can I speak with you a moment?  Draco, if you want to take the things into the upstairs hallway, that would be nice.”

 

Draco just nodded before starting upstairs with his trunk.  Hermione took a long breath before following her mum into the living room, their dad close behind.

 

“What’s going on?” her mum immediately demanded.

 

“It’s really hard to explain,” Hermione confessed, “But, I mean, you know how this summer was.  You saw everything that happened between us, how we grew together.  I just… mum, I’m so confused.  I love him.  I really do.  I… we… we slept together.”

 

It came out all in a rush suddenly, and everything Hermione had wanted to say to her mum for the past few months came tumbling out.  She started crying, and her mum pulled her against her, stroking her hair.

 

“I guess my question of whether or not you two wanted to sleep in the same room has been answered.”

 

“I’m so sorry, mum.”

 

“Baby girl, it’s okay,” she cooed, “I’m happy for you.  Albeit, I’ll have to have time to digest you growing up so quickly,” she said with a small smile, “Go upstairs before he thinks we ate you.”

 

Hermione just nodded, stowed away her tears with a wipe of her hand, and hurried off to go find Draco.

 

“Is everything okay?” he immediately asked, and she smiled.

 

“Everything is perfect.  I love you.”

 

“I love you so much, Hermione,” he responded, pulling her toward him for a soft, adoring kiss.

 

“So,” he began once they parted, “I assumed this was your room.”

 

“You assumed correctly,” she said with a smile.

 

“Are we staying in here together?”

 

“My parents actually agreed.  I think part of it has to do with the lack of guest room.  Shall we unpack?”

 

“We shall.  And then, I’m going to kiss you into oblivion.”

 

“Dinner first, silly,” she chided, tapping him on the nose before going to her suitcase.

 

\--

 

The first week passed flawlessly.  Hermione and Draco spent every waking moment together, wandering around Hermione’s neighborhood, taking turns on the swing at the park, learning Draco in the Muggle ways such as television and music, cuddling, and talking nonstop.  They continually found new things to converse about, things they never had thought of before.  They came to know each other incredibly, and they never grew tired of one another.

 

On Tuesday of the second week, Draco’s mother wrote.

 

_Darling,_

_I will assume you are somewhere safe for the holidays.  Tell her she has my utmost gratitude.  I will be forever in her debt for all that she has given you.  Thank you so much._

_I was glad to hear that he made it safely back to school.  I hope nothing harms him further, though we’ll have to figure out something for the summer.  I also wonder if you’ll come home for the summer…_

_I cannot stray much longer.  Just know that I keep you near and dear in my heart, and I wish so terribly that we could spend this Christmas together.  Think of me._

_I love you very much._

_NBM_

He showed it to Hermione once he’d finished reading, and she read it in silence, handing it back once she’d finished.

 

“Are you okay?” she asked after a few moments.

 

“Yea.  I just miss her,” he admitted, pulling her back against him.

 

They were sitting on the couch in her living room, a fire crackling across from them.  It was late, nearly the earliest of the morning.  Hermione had been itching to ask about Draco’s family for some time now, and though it was a sensitive topic and a sensitive moment, she dared asked now.

 

“Tell me about them, the Black’s, the Malfoy’s.”

 

Saying Sirius’ last name brought a stab to her heart, and she had to blink away a tear.  Harry’s face popped into her mind, and she closed her eyes, desperately trying to push the memory away.  When she finally opened her eyes again, having regained herself, Draco was watching her closely.

 

“You knew Sirius,” he stated, and she nodded.

 

“He was one of the greatest men I’d ever known.  I’d never seen such conviction and determination in someone before.  Well, other than myself.  He wanted so badly to give Harry everything that he possibly could.  He wanted him to live happily, to never forget the memory of his parents.  He wanted nothing more than to give Harry his whole heart.”

 

“I hate her, too,” he laughed humorlessly, “Auntie Bella.  She’s a miserable woman.  You would think that she would love her sisters, her true blood, but she doesn’t.  She only loves herself and that despicable wretch of a Lord.”

 

Hermione was taken aback.  She’d never before heard Draco speak such ill of his family, his kin, those that he had so readily worked for.

 

“I have three aunts.  Andromeda is the oldest.  You know her, also.  She’s married to the Muggle-born Ted Tonks.  Their daughter is Nymphadora.  I’ve only met her a few times, and I stayed with her briefly over the summer, as you know.  She’s a very, very kind woman, and one of the best mothers I’ve ever met.  I will be forever grateful for her hospitality toward me.  Then is Bellatrix, and she married to Rudolphus Lestrange.  I’m pretty sure they never speak nor do they ever see each other, but I’m not surprised seeing as she’s just disgusting and vile and horrible.  And then my mother, Narcissa.  She used to tell me stories of when she was in school, how she met my father,” he paused to smile genuinely, “He sounded like such a romantic.  _They_ sounded like they were so very much in love.  It was beautiful.  I’ll always wonder what happened.”

 

He fell silent, then, and Hermione only prodded after a few minutes, “Who else is there?”

 

“Well, I don’t know a lot about my dad’s side, though I do know his father was Abraxas.  He never speaks of them.  The only reason I know about my mother’s family is because Bella is so keen on the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black,” he ended this in a rather comedic voice, one in which made Hermione giggle.

 

“Were there any other good ones?”

 

“Very few.  Isla Black is, as far as anyone can recall, was the first to go off the deep end.  She married a Muggle.  Alphard, who I’m sure you’ve heard of from Sirius at some point or another, helped out Sirius when he ran away in his sixth year.  He was interesting.  I wished I could have met him.  Sirius loved him, though, or, at least, that’s what my mother tells me from when she was younger.  Andromeda and Sirius were the best of friends.  Marius was a squib, Cedrella married a Weasley.  Oh yes,” he responded to her shocked face, “I’m technically related to the Weasley’s, Potter’s, Crabbe’s, Longbottom’s, Bulstrode’s, Burke’s, Yaxley’s, Crouch’s, and probably some others.  And, there’s Phineas, of course.  I never heard much about him, other than he supported Muggle rights.”

 

“Sirius ran away?” Hermione questioned, curious.

 

“Yea.  Uh, I think he went to Harry’s dad’s place.”

 

“You’re telling me all this as if it’s common knowledge to you, as if you’re family just goes around talking about all of it.”

 

“They don’t.  But, my mother was very keen on me knowing about my family history.  She said she didn’t care what had happened and who didn’t want her to talk, she was going to anyway, and so she told me all that she knew or could in good conscience.”

 

Hermione just nodded, soaking it all in.  The first conclusion she came to was a shocking one: she wanted to meet Narcissa.

 

The first time she breached this topic was three days later, and, at first, all Draco could do was sit in silence, comprehending what she’d just asked him.

 

“It’s impossible, Hermione,” he said finally, shaking his head, “I can’t even see her.”

 

She knew it was impractical, but she desperately wanted to know this woman who so adored him.

 

“Someday,” he tried to promise, kissing her on the forehead, “But not until this war is over.  It isn’t safe.”

 

“Draco—”

 

“Absolutely not,” he said with finality, looking into her eyes, “Don’t ask me again.”

 

“Draco, that’s not fair.”

 

She tried to say more, but he’d already gotten up off her bed and was going toward the door.

 

“Where are you going?” she yelled.

 

“ _Somewhere_!” he shouted back, and she just crossed her arms in anger as she watched him leave.

 

He didn’t return until nearly the next morning.

 

“Hermione.”

 

Her brow furrowed at the noise, and she tried to roll away, but a stern hand shook her shoulder.

 

“Hermione, wake up.”

 

“Go away,” she grumbled, finally turning onto her side.

 

“Hermione, _please_ ,” it begged, but she just continued to ignore it.

 

The voice sighed, took her shoulder and rolled her back, and she was being kissed.  Her eyes instantly flew open only to find icy blue ones staring back at her.

 

“Where have you been?” she demanded too loudly.

 

“Sh,” he warned, putting a finger to his lips.

 

“ _What_?” she snapped, sitting up.

 

And then she noticed how he had one arm extended, his fingers wrapped around the bedpost, his whole body leaning into that one arm.  She noticed the dark stains on his white vneck, the bloody scrapes and scratches on his face and neck, and his haggard breathing.

 

“What happened to you?” she gasped, quickly getting out of bed and pulling his arm around her shoulders.

 

She helped him toward the bathroom where she sat him on the toilet and flicked on the light.  He was a ghastly white, and his wounds looked so much worse in the light.

 

“Take off your shirt,” she ordered, going to the cabinet above the sink to find peroxide and a hand towel.

 

When she turned around, she had to compose herself before moving forward again.  She wet the towel before dabbing away the blood on his stomach.

 

“Tell me what happened.  Or don’t.  I don’t care, just talk to me, please,” she said after a few moments of silence.

 

“I went outside, just for a second, which was stupid of me, to go out without you, and there was someone there, as I should have known there would be.  I was attacked, ambushed.  They didn’t use magic, Hermione.  They had knives.”

 

“Why are you back so late?”

 

“They dragged me somewhere, and I couldn’t find your house for the longest time.”

 

“Okay.  Okay.  Bite on this.  Roll back your tongue.”

 

She handed him another hand towel, rolled up, and he did as told, wincing and shutting his eyes as she began cleaning his wounds.  He took the towel out when she finished, straightening so she could properly wrap him.

 

“This may need serious tending, but that’s the best I can do for now.  Are you coming to bed?”

 

She stood, putting away her supplies.

 

“I just want to hold you.”

 

The sincerity in his voice shocked her, and she turned to look at him.  He was _crying_.

 

“I’m so sorry,” he whispered, shoulders shaking, “I shouldn’t have left.  I shouldn’t have gotten so angry.”

 

“Draco, sh,” she cooed, going to kiss him, “It’s okay.  As long as you’re safe and happy, then I am.  Come on, let’s go.”

 

And she whispered him the sweetest things she could think of until he dozed off, his tears drying as he slept.


	12. Ignorance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Blaise is almost in trouble, Hilary and Theodore visit, and Ginny yells.

Hermione looked up from her breakfast a week later as a small brown owl tapped on the window.  She went to get it, and waited for it to leave.  When it didn’t, she left the window open and sliced the envelop open with her finger.

 

“It’s from Hilary,” she murmured, skimming it.

 

When she gasped, however, Draco looked up, and so she read it aloud, “ _Emily went to visit Blaise for an early Christmas celebration because her parents didn’t want her leaving that day.  She was only supposed to be there for two days, and she’d set up the visit with Dumbledore before she left.  That was a week ago, Hermione.  She hasn’t returned, and I’ve written her thrice, but she never responds.  I tried writing Blaise, but he didn’t respond, and I’m freaking out, Hermione.  Have you heard from her?  Also, on a less terrified note, how are you and Draco?  Theodore came over the other day; he was so bored!  He misses Draco, and I totally miss you!  Maybe we could get together sometime?  I told Chelie to stay and wait for you to respond.  I’m just worried about Emily…_ ”

 

She ended the letter, lowering it to look at Draco.  He was paler than usual, and his breathing was quick.

 

“Something happened,” he mumbled, trying to stand and failing, “Hermione, something happened.”

 

“I’ll invite them here, okay?  Tell them to come this afternoon, and we can all hang out.  They can even stay the night if they want, okay?  Calm down.”

 

He nodded, watching as she quickly scribbled a response back.

 

_Hilary —_

_Why don’t you and Theo come over?  We’re free this afternoon and all day tomorrow.  You could apparate?  Come over anytime.  We’ll talk._

 

She sent the owl away with the letter, and the couple spent the next two hours desperately trying to distract themselves until there was a loud pop outside.  Hermione jumped up, going to the window, and she nearly shrieked in relief.

 

“They’re here,” was all she said before running toward the door.

 

She ushered them inside where they shed jackets and wet shoes.

 

“D’you want something hot to drink?  Draco’s in the living room.”

 

“Hot chocolate?” Theodore asked over his shoulder as he was already walking away to find his friend.

 

Hilary followed Hermione into the kitchen and was talking as soon as Hermione started getting the hot chocolate together.

 

“She wrote back,” was the first thing she said, “Her letter arrived just before yours.  I’ll tell you all about it.  I even have it, so I can read it to you guys, but they’re okay.”

 

Hermione’s shoulders slumped in relief, and she turned to face her blonde friend, “You don’t even know how good that is to hear.  How is Blaise?”

 

“I’ll tell you when we get in with the boys.  I don’t feel like repeating it.  It’s been a little hectic, so I’m worn out.  Plus, I’ve got the cramps of a lifetime,” she finished in a grumble, and Hermione just smiled.

 

Cramps.  She hadn’t had cramps in a while.  She furrowed her brow for a second before shaking it off, and motioning for Hilary to come help her.  Together, the girls brought four mugs of hot chocolate in, and Hilary presented the letter, cleared her throat, and began reading,

 

“ _Hilary —_

_I’m fine._

_You’re crazy, but I love you.  I’m sorry I didn’t write back sooner.  I would have, but we were a little tied up.  Dumbledore is going nuts over here, sending us on all these ridiculous missions about the castle.  And then there was the Dementor attack.  They came out of nowhere when Blaise and I were outside having a snowball fight, and they just swarmed us.  We had no chance.  Thankfully, McGonagall heard me screaming and came to our rescue.  That was only the first one; there’s been four since._

_Dumbledore definitely thinks it’s cause of the Death Eaters.  Did you hear about Azkaban?  I guess the Minister went to check on things, and the entire place was deserted.  Dementors, Death Eaters, everything, gone.  Now they’re out gallivanting around England and tearing it apart._

_I’ll be returning by the end of this week.  Don’t worry, I’ll be home for Christmas.  Tell mum and dad I’m sorry.  I’m sending them a similar letter as soon as I finish writing this._

_For Draco and Theodore, Blaise is fine.  He got hit by two of the attacks, but he’s okay.  He was in the Hospital Wing at one point, but, don’t worry, please.  His mother wrote, too, and she’s alright, as well._

_I do have some good news, though!  Please don’t hate me for this, and don’t think I’m rushing into things, but, well, Blaise proposed.  It just seemed natural, and, of course, I said yes.  Can you believe it?  I hardly can!  We’ll be getting married when the war is over.  I’m so excited, I can hardly wait to be his forever._

_I better go.  Dumbledore is here again.  Crazy old coot.  I’ll see you soon, sis._

_Lots of love, Emily_

 

So she’s fine,” Hilary concluded, “And deliriously in love.”

 

“It’s all very good to hear, though,” Draco said with a nod, “I was beginning to worry about Blaise out there.”

 

Their conversation continued on between the four of them for a while until they slowly divulged off into separate conversations.  It was nearing dusk when Hilary suddenly was waving her hands around wildly, trying to get the boys’ attention.

 

“We should all go out for dinner tonight!  Hermione, do you know of any good Muggle restaurants nearby?”

 

“I do.  That might be fun.  Draco?” she turned her eyes to him, and he was smiling.

 

“Yea, I think I’d actually really like that.  Do you want to invite Harry and Ginny maybe?”

 

He looked apprehensive in asking this, though Hermione, at the mention of her friends, felt a tug toward them, and she nodded.

 

“Would you guys mind if I did?  I’ll just apparate over to the Burrow and ask.”

 

“Go ahead!  We should probably go back and get better dressed.  I’m thinking dresses!” Hilary exclaimed, wriggling in her seat in excitement, “We’ll see you in an hour, let’s say?”

 

“Sure!” Hermione responded, and they showed them to the door before Hermione turned to Draco, “I’ll just be ten, fifteen minutes, okay?  You’ll be alright without me?”

 

“I’ll be fine, baby,” he promised, kissing her, “Go.  Quick.”

 

Hermione smiled before apparating, and, when she arrived at the Burrow, she was greeted by a wrestling Fred and George.

 

“Hey boys!” she called, and they instantly stopped and looked up, waved, and continued on.

 

She stepped around them and went into the house, going first to the kitchen where Mrs. Weasley notoriously was.

 

“Oh, Hermione, dear!” she exclaimed happily, “What brings you here?”

 

“I was wondering if Ginny was around?”

 

“Of course!  She’s upstairs.  You know where.”

 

She turned away, going back to fixing dinner, and Hermione hurried up the stairs, knocking lightly on Ginny’s door.  The redhead called for her to come in, and she entered to her and Harry playing some Muggle card game that he knew.

 

“Hermione!” Ginny shrieked, scattering the cards as she vaulted off her bed and ran to hug her.

 

Harry was right behind.

 

“You look pale.  Are you well?” Ginny asked once they’d finished.

 

“Yea, I’m fine,” she mumbled, a little bewildered, “I was coming to ask you guys if you wanted to come out tonight with Hilary, Draco, Theodore, and me.”

 

Harry immediately looked away, and Ginny frowned.

 

“We can’t,” she barely whispered, looking sad, “I would love to, but we really can’t.”

 

“You’re going somewhere,” she said, a little too loudly, and directed at Harry, “Where?”

 

“I can’t tell you,” he mumbled, not looking at her.

 

“Is Ron going?”

 

“Going where?  Hello, ‘Mione.”

 

“I want to go,” Hermione demanded, glaring at Harry, “I’m not letting you two go alone again.”

 

“You can’t,” Ron stated simply, shrugging, “You’re a danger to us if you go.”

 

“ _What_?”

 

“Hermione, not so loud, please,” Harry begged, pulling Ron into the room and shutting the door behind him, “Because you’re dating Draco and because Hogwarts _knows_ you’re dating Draco, then every single Slytherin has told their parents, and every single Death Eater is just waiting for you to go too far from either your house or Hogwarts.  Understand?  You can’t come anymore.  You’ll get hurt, and then we’ll get captured, and everything will have been for nothing.”

 

Hermione pursed her lips, forcing words of anger to slide back down her throat.

 

“I better be going, then,” she said sharply and shortly, “Be careful.”

 

She turned on her heel and stalked out, expecting at least Ginny to come after her, but she made it all the way outside and no one was behind her.  Biting her lip, she apparated back to her house, into her room, where Draco was shirtless and slipping on a belt.

 

She instantly broke down, screaming about how awful they were and crying about how much trouble she was causing.  Draco watched her, shocked out of knowing what to say.

 

“Hermione, do you want to stay in tonight?” he finally managed to sneak in, touching her shoulder.

 

“No,” she snapped, pulling away, “I can’t stay in here.  I feel trapped.”

 

The look of hurt that suddenly smacked Draco in the face caught her off guard.

 

“I can leave, if you want,” he whispered, looking down, “I told you I didn’t have to stay with you.”

 

“Draco,” she sighed, “It’s not because of you.  I’m just frustrated is all.  Harry and Ron are leaving again tonight, and I can’t even help them.  And _that_ isn’t your fault either.  It’s mine.  What are you wearing?” she changed subjects, rubbing her face tiredly.

 

“A nice suit.  And you?”

 

She didn’t answer immediately, but instead went over to her closet where she pulled out a short black strapless dress.  It flared out just below her breasts and sparkled a dull grey in the light.  He smiled, going over to her.

 

“You’ll look beautiful, as always,” he murmured, kissing her.

 

She just smiled back, his happiness infecting her as she snuggled close to him, relishing in his smooth chest and hard muscles.  She loved to be so intimate with him.

 

When Hilary arrived a half hour later, she was also wearing a short black dress, though, while hers wasn’t strapless, the thick silver straps acted as a halter.  They left when Theodore arrived, dressed similarly to Draco, and they discovered a wondrous night of laughter and, if only for a moment, happiness.

 

They were out late, and, when they finally crept back in late that night, Hermione and Draco were careful not to make any noise.

 

“You’re a good dancer,” Draco whispered when they reached her room and started to disrobe.

 

“Lies,” she scoffed, smiling over at him, “But if you say so.”

 

“Oh, I do say so.”

 

Suddenly, she was in his arms, and she laughed softly, leaning into him.

 

“I had a hard time not just ravaging you right there on the dance floor,” he purred, kissing her neck slowly.

 

“Oh?” she returned, slipping away from him, “What, do I turn you on, Mister Malfoy?”

 

He groaned as she left to go into the bathroom, though, when she returned, he was already in bed and hungrily awaiting her.  And so they loved, in the most passionate way they knew how.

 

\--

 

Christmas came and went uneventfully.  January approached, and, as the second week was coming to a close, Hermione was beginning to become nervous.  At the time, when she should be packing since they were leaving in three days, she was instead pacing back and forth in front of her window.  Draco was already back at Hogwarts, Dumbledore’s idea in order to keep him safe, and so she had been alone for the past week.

 

“Finally,” she hissed as she saw her owl flying toward her window.

 

She opened it, impatiently waiting for it to land.  Once it did, she slipped the letter off from around its leg and hadn’t even finished reading when there was a pop behind her.

 

“Tell me you’re lying,” Ginny demanded as she spun around, her owl giving an unhappy shout.

 

“I don’t know,” Hermione whimpered, nearly in tears.

 

“Hermione, how could you not know?”

 

She pointed to the hallway, indicating the bathroom, and Ginny shook her head.

 

“You didn’t use protection?” she finally demanded, looking at her in bewilderment.

 

“We did!” Hermione exclaimed, “But sometimes they break, right?  Or sometimes they’re defective?”

 

“For Christ’s sake, Hermione, you should have been worried _last month_ when you didn’t get it.”

 

“I didn’t even realize, Ginny!”

 

“He’s brainwashing you!” her friend yelled, “You, Hermione Granger, the smartest girl in our school, potentially _pregnant_ because you didn’t _realize_!  You used to be so on top of things, Hermione!”

 

“The same thing could have happened to you!” she yelled back, and they both stopped when Hermione’s alarm clock went off.

 

She quickly hit the SNOOZE button before looking at Ginny.

 

“Go,” the redhead muttered, pointing to the hallway.

 

Hermione stayed a moment longer, not wanting to know, before she finally left the room and pushed open the bathroom door.


	13. Gone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which... well... woah.

Hermione exited the bathroom, staring at the small device in her hands.

 

“Well?” Ginny demanded, nearly glaring at her.

 

Hermione shook her head before looking up, “No.”

 

“What d’you mean _no_?  You missed your period.”

 

“I _know_ I did,” she said, slowly, just as confused, “I’m going to schedule an appointment with my doctor before we go back to school.”

 

Ginny just sighed before flopping down on Hermione’s bed.

 

\--

 

Hermione was craning her neck at the station in search of Ginny until she finally spotted the redhead and instantly hurried over to her.  She quickly pulled her away from her family, her face contorted into that of ecstasy.

 

“Stress!” she exclaimed finally, hitting Ginny on the arm, “I was _stressed_!”

 

“By _what_?  You couldn’t possibly be upset during this vacation!”

 

“I wasn’t upset,” she scoffed, rolling her eyes, “But I was stressing about Blaise and Emily, and about Harry and Ron, and then about Draco, and it was just crazy, and it _makes sense_ , Gin.”

 

“And your doctor told me this?”

 

“Yes.  She said it was possible and most likely.”

 

“Did you tell Draco any of this?”

 

“No,” she was firm, “I didn’t, and I don’t want to.  He doesn’t need that added weight on his shoulders.”

 

Ginny just nodded before sighing.

 

“Don’t let this happen again, ‘Mione, _please_ ,” she muttered before going back to her family.

 

Hermione followed after a moment, composing herself so that she could greet the boys with a smile on her face…

 

\--

 

_Two months later._

_March._

“Letter from the boys,” Ginny said as she sat down, brandishing an envelope.

 

She took a quick sip of pumpkin juice before slicing it open.  It was a Thursday, and Hermione had been trying to catch her while she wasn’t busy all day, but it was only now, at dinner, that she finally graced them with her presence.

 

“I haven’t seen you all day,” Hermione voiced her concern, but Ginny just waved her away.

 

“Been running around,” she mumbled as she unfolded the letter, “I’ll give it to you after.”

 

Hermione watched as she read it four times before she started to fold it again.

 

“Ginny,” she demanded, holding out her hand, “I want to read it.”

 

“You can’t,” she mumbled, slipping it back into the envelope.

 

Under any other circumstance, Hermione would have just let it go, but after last time, she couldn’t.  And so she slipped her wand out and, suddenly, the letter was in her hands.

 

“Hermione!” Ginny shrieked, trying to reach for it.

 

“I have every right to know,” she hissed, glaring at her redheaded friend until she turned to her food, grumbling to herself.

 

_Gin —_

_I can’t write long.  It’s even dangerous for me to be writing, but I had to let you know we were okay.  I know we’ve been gone all week, and I’m sorry.  We just… we don’t know where to look.  We’ve run out of ideas, and I feel like we’re just running in circles, checking the stupidest places.  Nothing is working.  We might be back sooner than planned…_

Hermione reacted carefully.  She read it only once, folded it, and gave it to Ginny.  After that, she did her best to distract Ginny and bring her out of her now sullen mood.  It worked eventually, and they even spent the evening with Hilary, Emily, Theodore, Blaise, and Draco.

 

“I’ll see you tomorrow for breakfast?” Hermione said as she walked the girls to the door; the boys were still down in the common room.

 

“Yea, absolutely,” Ginny said with a smile, “And, Hermione, thanks so much for not flipping out about that letter.”

 

“Hey,” she said, shrugging, “It’s fine.  I get it.  They have to do this without me.  It’s my own fault.  Have a good night, you guys!” she added as Hilary and Emily made their way out of the portrait hole.

 

She and Ginny exchanged an embrace before she left, and she smiled at Theodore and Blaise as they passed by her.  Draco met her at the bottom of the stairs with a kiss.

 

“I love you,” he whispered, drawing her close to him.

 

“Mm,” she sighed into him, “And I love you.”

 

He pulled her off to bed where they expressed their love before falling into a deep sleep…

 

 

 

Hermione woke herself up at around two in the morning, and she slowly rolled away from Draco.  She laid there for a few minutes to act as though she were simply doing just that, rolling away.  After a short while, she slowly and quietly crept out of bed, slipped back into her panties and bra, scooped up the rest of her clothes, and hurried out of the room.  She ran across the common room, up her stairs, and slipped into her room, letting out the breath she’d been holding.

 

Once there, she dumped her clothes on the floor and hurried over to her dresser.  She started pulling out clothes fit for cold weather, camping, and the sort.  She picked up a small purse, charmed it, and shoved everything inside before slipping into a pair of jeans, a long striped sweater, a tan sweatshirt, a dark grey peacoat, and a purple pink scarf.  She pulled her into a bun, and then went to collect any other necessities she may need.

 

After, she shouldered the purse, left her room, and stopped at the bottom of her stairs, looking over at Draco’s room.  She wouldn’t leave anything, not a letter, not a kiss, and that hurt her the most.  It was like how he’d left her with no trace of his existence but a wrapped parcel containing the book she’d been looking at.

 

She cast her eyes downward and marched forward, right out of the house.  Once outside, she snuck her way to the Gryffindor house where she whispered the password out of sight so that the Fat Lady wouldn’t recognize her, crept inside, and ran up the boys’ staircase.  She quickly found Harry and Ron’s room, and, without making a sound, she got them clothes and other things they’d forgotten.

 

Then, taking a deep breath, she left, slipped her way through the castle, and took off in a sprint down the stairs and toward the far gates.  She turned only once she’d reached them, and she stared at the castle for a few moments before pointing her wand at the gates.  She left, and she spent the night apparating to different places until she found them, a small fire outside of a little tent.  She cursed softly, stalking toward it, and, once near enough, she screamed.

 

Harry immediately came rushing out, wand at the ready, and Hermione rolled her eyes.

 

“What the _fuck_ are you doing here?” he screeched instantly, gaping at her.

 

“Why don’t you have charms up?”

 

“What?  _Ron_!”

 

“What?” he whined, poking his head out.

 

“Why aren’t there any charms up?”

 

“I put the charms up.”

 

“Hermione found us.”

 

“How did you find us?” Ron exclaimed.

 

Hermione rolled her eyes, “Because the charms aren’t up.”

 

“Why are you here?” Harry demanded.

 

“Because you need me.  Look, I’m sick of this, I’m not going to continue to let you guys do this alone.  I want to help.”

 

“Whatever,” Harry grumbled.

 

“I brought extra clothes and the things you may have forgotten.  Like the Marauder’s Map.”

 

Harry stopped at this, half-turning, “Why would I need that?”

 

“Don’t play fool, Harry.  I know you’re worried about Ginny.”

 

“And how would that help me?”

 

But his voice was hoarse, and she could tell he was grateful.

 

“So you can see that she’s still walking about, she’s still living.”

 

“Thank you,” he barely whispered, and she just smiled before following them to the tent.

 

They spent the night talking, first about her and Draco, about her and Ron, about her being here, which only provided a segue way into where they would look next.  In the end, they all bid each other good night with hugs and apologies.

 

\--

 

Draco knew that pacing outside of the Gryffindor portrait hole was probably not a good idea, but he could barely hold himself together let alone remember etiquette.

 

“Draco Malfoy?” a voice suddenly said, and he stopped as a girl exited the portrait hole, “What are you doing he—hey!  You can’t go in there!”

 

Draco pushed past her and sprinted through the tunnel, erupting in the Gryffindor common room.  People shrieked at his arrival, and someone tried to grab him to push him back out, but he ducked away and hurried up the girls’ staircase, grabbing onto the banister halfway there and hauling himself up when it turned into a slide.  Finally, he reached the top and banged on every single door until Ginny finally answered one of them, and he let out a sigh, waving her back into her room so he could enter.

 

“Oh my God!” one of the girls in her room exclaimed, and Ginny just hushed her before arching an eyebrow.

 

“How the hell did you get in here?” she asked, slightly amused.

 

“Waited until someone left.  Where is she?” he demanded, eyes wild.

 

“She who?” Ginny laughed.

 

“Hermione.  Where is she?”

 

“What do you mean?  I was just going to go down and join her for breakfast.”

 

“Ginny!” he yelled, grabbing her shoulders, “She’s _gone_!”

 

“ _What_?”

 

It finally dawned on her, and she spun out of Draco’s grasp, racing over to her bed.  She rifled through her nightstand, but the letter was still there.  However, taped on top was a slip of paper, Hermione’s handwriting.

 

_I’m sorry.  I had to._

Ginny looked up and over at Draco, her heart pounding.  She turned the letter, and he collapsed against the door as he read the note.

 

“She’s gone, Ginny.  She went to them, didn’t she?”

 

“I have no idea where they are, either.”

 

“What are we going to do?”

 

“Well, first, we’re going to get you out of here because, well…” she trailed off at the commotion downstairs, “McGonagall is here.”

 

However, when they walked downstairs, McGonagall looked frantic.

 

“Miss Weasley!” she exclaimed, and there was a few seconds where her gaze jumped between the two of them before she finally stopped, looking straight at Draco.

 

“She’s gone,” was all she said, and Draco just nodded.

 

“To them?” she asked of Ginny, who looked away.

 

“Okay,” she started, “We’ll have to speak to Albus about this.”

 

And she ushered them out of the room, and they were eerily quiet as they made their way to the headmaster’s office.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OH MY GOD.


	14. Fighting

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which our five Slytherins are forced to leave the castle, the battle occurs, and Draco and Hermione are reunited.

“Hey,” Blaise greeted as he sat down next to Draco in Defense the next day, “Where’s Hermione?”

 

“I’ll tell you later,” and that’s all he said until dinner that night, “She’s with Potter and Weasley.”

 

Blaise’s eyes were suddenly wide, but Draco shook his head, and the subject was dropped.  For the next month, even, Draco barely spoke of Hermione.  None of the professors seemed fazed by it, though they were definitely tenser and _scared_.  It was in the beginning of May when things suddenly went from bad to worse in only a matter of one day.

 

Draco, Blaise, and Theodore were working on a potion together, the girls in front of them, when McGonagall hurried into the room.  She spoke quickly with Snape, who nodded, looking once at their tables.

 

“Malfoy, Zabini, Nott, and Johnson,” Snape said suddenly, “Leave.”

 

Draco didn’t even think twice; he gathered his things and led the way.  McGonagall brought up the rear.

 

“Wands out,” she hissed as she closed the door behind them, “Walk quickly.”

 

They raced through the castle, and they only stopped when McGonagall opened a door and ushered them inside.  A tall redhead with a ponytail stood with his back to them, his eyes on the window.  Ginny Weasley was sitting on one of the desks, whispering to her twin brothers.

 

“Bill, is everything still clear?” McGonagall asked, snapping the door shut.

 

The man at the window, whom Draco assumed was an older Weasley, nodded, not looking at them.

 

“Okay.  We’re moving the five of you to the Weasley house.  We got this letter from Miss Granger last night.”

 

She handed it to Draco, who read it quickly before passing it on.

 

“It isn’t safe here at Hogwarts any longer, _especially_ for you, Draco.  You _will not argue with me_ ,” she added as Blaise opened his mouth, “Ginny will escort Hilary and Emily, the twins will take Blaise and Theodore, and I’ll be going with Draco.  You are to pack _everything_.  We will be leaving in an hour.”

 

And so the next hour passed in a blur.  When they arrived at the house, Mrs. Weasley hurried them inside.

 

“Charlie,” McGonagall acknowledged as she entered, “Where is Arthur, Molly?”

 

“He’ll be home momentarily,” she murmured, distracted with hugging her boys.

 

Draco watched her cry as they all disappeared back to Hogwarts, save for Ginny, and it was a few hours before anyone dared breach the subject.  But, finally, at ten o’clock that night, Ginny snuck into the boys’ room with the girls behind her.

 

“Okay, before I explain, are you five planning to go back to Hogwarts to fight?”

 

When everyone nodded, she continued, “Good.  I already have a way for us to escape.  My brothers are busy escorting all of the first, second, third, and fourth years back to their homes.  Any of those fifteen and above are being asked if they’d rather stay or leave.  My plan, though, is simple.  The twins will be staying at the castle, but Fred is going to apparate back _if_ they’re attacked, which will be our signal to leave.  Until then, though, we’re to act disgruntled by the fact that we’re here.  Understood?”

 

And that was that.

 

\--

 

“Hermione?” Draco asked, staring at the beautiful girl lying next to him, facing him.

 

“How did you sleep?” she murmured, leaning forward to kiss him.

 

“What happened?  What day is it?”

 

“May third, sweetie.”

 

Draco blinked, and he felt like someone had bashed him over the head.

 

_“MUM!”_

_Draco awoke abruptly, and Blaise shot up just as he was climbing out of bed._

_“Wake up the girls,” Draco ordered before going to Theodore and shaking him, “Let’s go,” he said to his bleary-eyed friend._

_They were all dressed to go, in jeans, t-shirts, sweatshirts.  The three boys slipped on their shoes and were just leaving the room when Ginny appeared._

_“That’s Fred.”_

_“MUM!  WHERE ARE YOU?” Fred screamed from downstairs._

_“Check her room.  I’ll check outside,” George grumbled before there was a sudden commotion from upstairs._

_“What’s going on?” Mrs. Weasley called, and the twins instantly started shouting at the same time._

_“Apparate to Hogwarts!  He’s there!”_

_And they were gone.  Without a second thought, Draco grabbed Ginny’s wrist and apparated, taking her with him.  When they landed, the castle was on fire and the air was filled with screams.  Black cloaks and silver masks attacked the school, though some were clearly apparent._

_“Hold!” Ginny yelled, pulling Draco back to her, “Alright, the three boys, come here.”_

_Ginny quickly cast charms at each of them, making them unrecognizable._

_“If we don’t make it…” she trailed off, but Draco just pulled her into a hug._

_“Thank you for everything,” he muttered and was gone._

_The rest of them hugged quickly before sprinting toward the castle.  It was absolute mayhem.  Draco instantly jumped in, blasting away everyone that he could, stunning left and right, and hexing constantly.  He had to find her.  He nearly threw an Unforgivable Curse at Luna Lovegood when she grabbed his arm, but quickly bit back the spell, allowing her to tug him away._

_“She’s not here,” she hissed, stunning someone behind Draco._

_He turned to help her as she continued to talk, “She was here a few minutes ago, but then she disapparated again.  I’m not sure to where, but she promised she’d be back.”_

_And that was the end of their conversation.  Draco slowly made his way inside the castle, grinning as he saw Dumbledore fighting off a horde of Death Eaters successfully.  He ducked as a hex was thrown his way, and, in seconds, he was battling the Carrow twins.  When he finally managed to stun Alecto, Amycus went running after her brother, and a sudden scream caught his attention.  He turned, and saw Mrs. Weasley rise from the floor, rage making her move._

_Fred lay behind her._

_“Dumbledore’s dead,” someone said from behind him, “Have you seen Harry?”_

_He spun at the voice, and Hermione gasped._

_“No!” she shrieked, pushing him away from the fight into a dark corner, “What are you doing here?”_

_“You recognize me?” he muttered._

_“Your eyes.  Draco,” she sighed, sinking against him, “You’re okay.”_

_“I love you, Hermione.”_

_“And I love you.  I love you so much.”_

_They stayed like that for only a few moments before Hermione pushed away._

_“You said Dumbledore was dead?  But I just saw him—”_

_She cut him off with her finger, and he followed her point.  The great Headmaster had fallen._

_“He did it on purpose.  He told us he was going to.  He said he should have been killed last year, but then you kind of turned things around, and, well, you didn’t go after him anymore.”_

_“What?”_

_“I know, it’s all very convoluted.  But, you know how you were given the mission to kill him?  And then you didn’t?  Well.  So he wasn’t killed.  He let them.  He had to, he said.  We’ll never really know why, but I think it has to do with Harry.  Speaking of…”_

_“I haven’t,” he answered her, “Wasn’t he with you?”_

_“Was being the operative word.  We got separated, and so Ron and I went to inform the Order members.  C’mon, we’re wasting time.”_

_And so the battle waged on._

“But,” he mumbled, bringing himself back to the present, “How?”

 

Hermione smiled, sighing, “Harry, Ron, and I were searching for Horcruxes.  A Horcrux is a piece of dangerously dark magic.  It splits the soul and puts it in an item of the wizard or witch’s choosing.  Voldemort split his soul into seven pieces, one of them being Harry.  And so, Harry, technically, was killed last night, and, from the way he explained it, brought back to life.  He acted as though he was still dead because, well, when he awoke, he was being carried by Hagrid, but then Hagrid set him down, Neville killed the last Horcrux left, which was the snake, and then Harry dueled Voldemort and won.  You were hit with a rather vicious curse by the Carrow twins before Tonks finally turned her hand on them.”

 

“Tonks,” he said slowly, and the line of people was coming back to him.

 

“Tonks is dead,” she confirmed, “As is Professor Lupin, Fred Weasley, Crabbe, Colin Creevey, Professor Snape, Bellatrix Lestrange, and the Carrow twins, thanks to Tonks.  There are a handful of other Death Eaters, as well, though I can’t remember all of them.  I’m pretty sure Greyback was killed, though.”

 

Draco just nodded.

 

“Fred died.  I saw that,” he said after a few minutes.

 

“Yea…” Hermione trailed off, “Don’t talk about it.  George kind of, well, he isn’t very right, obviously, but it’s a little tragic to watch him.”

 

“And Blaise and Theo?”

 

“Alive, as are Hilary and Emily.”

 

“Where are we?” he finally asked.

 

“My house, actually.  You’re in my room.”

 

He sat up slowly, looking around.

 

“Where is everyone else?”

 

“Harry is at the Weasley’s house, as are the rest of them, Blaise went with Theo to his house, and Emily and Hilary went to theirs.  We’re all meeting at the Weasley’s later, though.”

 

“So we won,” he confirmed, and Hermione just nodded.

 

“We won.  Now, let’s go back to sleep.  It’s, like, seven in the morning.  We don’t have to leave until two.”

 

Draco immediately obeyed, melting back into her…

 

\--

 

_Four months later._

_September._

“I like it,” Hermione said, nodding, “I really do.”

 

“Well, I’m glad, considering we live here now,” Draco laughed before stepping inside.

 

They’d gone shopping all throughout the month of August for a nice flat in London after spending the entire summer deciding whether or not to live together.  In the end, they couldn’t imagine being apart.

 

“No, but I _really_ like it,” she emphasized, following him, “It’s so quaint.”

 

“Uh huh,” he muttered, grinning.

 

“Oh, Harry!”

 

“Like you didn’t know I was coming,” Harry chuckled, stepping in with two trunks.

 

Draco had another two and, when Blaise apparated, he was holding two suitcases.  Theodore followed with another two suitcases before Ron, Ginny, Emily, and Hilary appeared with boxes; Hermione was floating three boxes in front of her.

 

The flat was simple.  It opened to a large living area which connected to a kitchen in the back.  To the left was a beautiful bedroom attached to a shower.  Another bedroom was next to the first, and there were large windows in each room.

 

“Thanks, guys,” Hermione said with a smile as they left everything in the living room.

 

“Hey, no problem, as long as you still help Ginny and I,” Harry chided, nudging her.

 

Hermione just rolled her eyes, but smiled at the wide beam that had instantly spread across Ginny’s face when he mentioned this.  Not only had Harry proposed three days after the battle (it was the first thing he did when he woke up), he’d then surprised her with the most beautiful _house_.  When he first brought them to it, they were all shocked into silence, and Ginny immediately shook her head and opened her mouth to yell at him, but then he surprised her even further.

 

_“It was my father’s and his before that.  It’s been in the Potter’s name for a long time.  It was in their will.  We’ll have to clean it up and fix it up and all that, but it’s ours.  So don’t yell at me, because I didn’t spend a cent.”_

To which Ginny just cried and laughed and hugged him.

 

And so, for the next few days, Hermione and Draco moved themselves in, and then everyone rallied together and they spent the next few months at Harry and Ginny’s new house, making it look brand new.  Neighbors strolled in here and there, and it was a time of stories of Harold and Sara Potter, of James and Lily Potter, of Sirius Black and Remus Lupin, and of all the great and wonderful times the house had seen.  And, finally, for once, we were all at peace.


	15. Finally: An Epilogue

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the year is 2024, Draco and Hermione are old, and a budding romance is presented.

_2024._

Draco awoke to a kiss, and he smiled, opening his eyes to find Hermione smiling down at him.

 

“Our little boy is going off for his final year,” she mumbled, and he laughed as he noticed her glassy eyes.

 

“Our _little boy_ ,” he mocked, leaning up and kissing her, “Don’t worry.  He’ll be fine.  _He_ doesn’t have to fight a war.”

 

“He does have to fight against the odds of loving a Weasley, though.  The ever wonderful tale of a Slytherin falling for a Gryffindor.”

 

Draco pushed her over, rolling on top of her.

 

“Don’t tease me,” he mumbled into her as he buried his face in her neck, “I can’t help loving you.”

 

“You are hilariously adorable.”

 

He grumbled something incoherent, and Hermione just laughed at him before wriggling out from underneath him, leaving Draco face down in the bed, while she went to change.

 

“Get dressed, and I’ll make my two boys breakfast.”

 

She left with that, dressed in jeans and a pretty blouse.  Draco did as told, slipping into a pair of light jeans and a nice black button-up.  He went to Scorpius’ door after, which was down the hall, and knocked lightly, smiling as his son groaned from the other side.

 

“Mum’s making breakfast,” Draco said through the door, to which Scorpius groaned louder, “Better get dressed before she starts yelling.”

 

“Fuck,” was all he heard, and Draco just laughed before heading back down the hall, down the stairs, through the living room, and into the kitchen.

 

They’d finally bought their house four years after being married and two years before Scorpius was born.  It was down the street from nearly everyone, for which Hermione and Draco were always glad.

 

“Is he awake?” she asked as Draco left a kiss on her neck.

 

“Kind of, but you know how he is.”

 

Draco went to put on a pot of coffee, and they worked in silence around one another, two souls united and wrapped into one.

 

After another twenty minutes, Scorpius finally dragged himself into the kitchen, still wearing his plaid pajama bottoms and a white vneck.

 

“It’s too early,” he grumbled before sitting and lowering his head into his arms.

 

“Nope, up you go,” Hermione said, slipping a plate beneath him with a large waffle, whipped cream, and strawberries on top.

 

This was followed by a bowl of eggs that went in the middle of the table, a plate of bacon, and a bowl of hash browns mixed with green and red peppers.  She and Draco sat opposite their son, and, soon enough, they woke him up with small talk.  Eventually, they finished breakfast, and he went off to get ready.  As Hermione was cleaning up, there was a knock on the door.

 

Draco went to get it, opening the door to reveal Harry, Ginny, Albus, and Lily.

 

“Ron will be here shortly, and I think I heard Emily shrieking when we left.”

 

Draco just nodded, the idea a common occurrence, and stepped back so they could enter.  Soon enough, the house was full of parents and kids ready to go off to their seventh, sixth, and fifth year.  Hermione smiled as Scorpius jogged down the stairs, his stuff floating behind him, and he instantly looked for Rose, though she refused to acknowledge him.  Hermione smiled at this, the expression widening when Draco’s hand found hers.

 

“Hey, you never know, maybe she’ll finally relent this year,” he whispered, and she just laughed.

 

Maybe she would.

**Author's Note:**

> Let me know what you think. I haven’t written Dramione in a while, so this is a treat for me. Hope you enjoyed!


End file.
